SB 472 
.K5 
Copy 1 



=t^472 






It 



iss*«^m^ 






Ring out the Old, ring in the New, 
Ring out the False, ring in the True." 



— Tennyson. 



URAL Taste 



Western Towns and Country Districts, 



IX ITS 



RELATION TO THE PRINCIPLES OF THE ART 



OF 



Landscape (Gardening. 



BY 



MAXIMILIAN (1. KERN. 




COLUMBIA, MO.: 

HERALD PRINTINfi HOUSE, 

1884. 






Eiiteifd according to Act of Congress in the year 1884, by Maximilian G. Kern, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Wdshingtou. 

All rir/lits reserved. 



P R EFAC E 



The niaiiuscri[)t of this uiiHSSuiniiig volume lias been 
submitted to uu' not only for my opinion as to its rational 
connectio]! with matters of edueation, but also for suoli emen- 
dations and sug\ii"estiofis as niight l)e deemed iiecessary to the 
composition of one who is not a native of this country, and 
whose readino- and thinking has been largely in foreign 
tongues. 

Although previously Init slightly ac^juainted with the theory 
of Landscape (gardening. I have l)e('ome m(n'e and mon^ 
interested in the development of the subject, and hav laid 
tlie book down witli a far clearer insight into the nuitter and 
a much higher appreciation of its real mei'its than I had 
thought })ossiblc of attainment without close and proti'aeted 
study. 

The work is wi-itten. not as are most books on similar 
subjects, l)y mere theorists, oi- for the sole use of the wealthy 
classes, who most largely patronize this art, and have uidim- 
ited mea]is at their disposal for carrying iido practical 
operation tlie suggestions contained therein.; l)ut the writer is 
one of the few thoroughly educated, scientitic Landscape 
Artists whose juimes ai'c known in the history of the dissemi- 
nation of tliis art. as expressed chiefly in the; creation of the 
princi2)al oi'munental grounds of our country. His field of 



4 TKEFACE. 

operations lias l)ee]i i)i the Avest, and the leading jjnblie 
parks in the metro})olis of our State owe their artistic (k'vel- 
opnient mainly to his intellioent labors. 

His efforts to remove the subject from a jjurely i)rofessional 

basis and to place it on educational grounds, should therefore 

be considered doubly valuable, inasmuch as artistic ideas in 

this as in all other l)ranches of education can 1)e [)0})ulai'izcd 

only through educational means. Most heartily, therefoi'e. 

do I commend the book to the teachers of the country, undei- 

whose guidance tlie thoughts of the youth (Committed to their 

instruction may be awakened to the consideration of a snbject 

wlii(di, })ropei'ly understood, would create a revolution in tlu' 

general a])])earauce of our rui-al honuis. the grounds sni'i'ound- 

ing our schools and colleges, and especially of the cemeteries 

of our land, with wliicdi our most sacred feqlings are so closely 

associated . 

A. F. FLEET, 

Profeisyr of Gifck. 

Univefsiti/ of Missouri. 



Part First. 



ATTERS eP iASTE. 



I N T R () D IT C T R Y 



The subject discussed in tlio following pages is one of prac- 
tical Art, available to all who wish to plan and to conduct 
rural iiii})rovenicnts. enibi-acing the design of grounds and the 
planting of trees, with a view to pictorial beauty and attract- 
iveness to the public mind. The essence of the sul)ject may 
appropriately be }n-esented to the reader, by pointing him to 
Nature, the source from whi(di Art, in its wiih-st sense, has 
ever drawn its inspiration. Tlie endless volume of scenery 
written by the hand of creative omnipotence, reveals to the 
reflecting mind the inmost thought of the Creator, infinite 
beauty and cleai'iiess, expressed throughout the entire realm 
of scenic nature. Well may tiiis evidence of the thoughts of 
God join in with the anthems of praise proclaimed by the 
heavens and the starry tirmament above. 

These attril)utes of scenic nature are the basis from which 
man has derived his fundamental conceptions of tiie beautiful 
which have developed into the empire of Art and Culture, 
crowning the age in which we live ; the leading pillar of the 
civilization of the race. Art claims to be an inspiration from 
on high. In order to deserve this exalted name, it must l)e 
firmly founded on the manifestafions of the thoughts of (xod 
found in his handiwork, the charming scenery of nature 
which surrounds us on all sides. We may reverently believe 
that these ideas of creative wisdom ^v'ere materialized in 
nature not merely for the abstract glory of the Creator himself, 
much less for the sole benefit of a carnal and greedy race of 
human beings, destined to populate this globe. They were to 
be the foundation on which the crowning triumph of creation, 
intellectual nature was to be reared, the central sun to illu- 
minate the pathway of human progression. Its history 
verifies fully this assertion. The beauty of material nature 
has ever been the faithful instructor of the human mind. In 
the unknown past, darkened by mental (lei)ravity and ignor- 
ance, the charms of Nature were the cloud of light, kindly 



8 IIUKAL TASTE. 

drawing the bewildered mind towards its origin and destiny, 
the Creator. In more enlightened ages they were the pillar 
of fire leading the van of civilization, on the summit of which 
we often musingly gaze through the long vista of time, for- 
oetful of the God-sent motor, of the culture in which we 
rejoice and pride ourselves. 

The inspired writer of Genesis expresses very significantly 
the true object for which the ditferent components of nature 
had been created. In mystic language he tells us of the ideal 
home of man, as a garden, a scene of infinite l)eauty and 
attraction to the mind, in which its dormant faculties were to 
be developed, amidst the charms of which its tastes and aspi- 
rations were to be formed. How dilferent is this scriptural 
version from the tdl-powerful, all-devouring materialism of 
our day I Can a kind voice to mankind, though allegorical it 
may be, be more eloquent than this one heard from the 
"garden eastward in Eden"'? Could Avords, relating an 
occurrence real or iik-al, foreshadow more clearly the funda- 
mental i)rinciple of education in the intellectual culture of 
mankind ? Are we really to wonder that a mysterious chord 
of sympathy vilu-ates tlirough every human heart, l)inding it 
indissolubly to the (-harms of nature ? Are we to wonder 
that this union shall 1)e perpetual, not be severed at the end 
of our existence on this present plaue, on which we fondly 
anticipate meeting l)righter scenes of nature in the unknown 
future "beyond the river" '1 Can it be possible that all these 
im})uLses of the soul, so gracefully engrafted on the religious 
coiu-eptions of mankind, should only be wild phantasy ? 
Then the poetry of the Christian era would have missed its 
mark and object sadly indeed. 

No one denies the fact that the grade of mental culture 
possessed by the individual conditi<tns in large measure his 
share of enjoyment, realized in coiiimunion with nature, and 
consequently his meed of hap})iness and contentedness, 
inde})endent of surrounding circumstances. We are therefore 
forced to recognize the imperative necessity of an eidight- 
ened system of mental training, calculated not jiierely to 
develop the plane of higher aesthetic culture, on which foi-tune 
and accident place at best only the ccunparatively few, but 



RURAL TASTE. 9 

chosen with uii honest view to the advancement and retine- 
nient of tlie masses, a school in wliicli the mind is trained 
and developed in harmony with the educating influences of 
nature herself. The l)enetits resulting from tlie recognition 
of their hlessed mission in popular instruction, would l)e 
most directly felt by those great masses of the people engaged 
in the culture of the soil, and consequently in constant com- 
munication with nature, whose inward charms and lessons are 
lost to the greater numbers, solely for the reason that educa- 
tors have neglected to accord to them their due importance 
and dignity in the process of mental training. 

There was a time when Art and Science stood proudly on 
a pedestal entirely of their own choosing and construction, 
and expected to be entitled to the universal admiration of the 
masses. The barrier separating the thinker and the worker 
has vanished before the light illuminating our day. These 
motors of culture have gracefully descended and have frater- 
nized Avith the people, losing none of their wonted dignity by 
tlie change. The light of Science has stripped from labor the 
brutalizing yoke of drudgery, has made it honorable and more 
remunerative thaii before. The products of Art liave literally 
flooded the civilized countries until they decorate all walks of 
life with grace and beauty. 

There is a modest branch of Art, l)y the wayside as it were, 
which decorates the home grounds of the people, eml)ellishes 
wide-spread neighborhoods, creates the pleasure grounds of the 
large cities for the l)enetit of the crowded masses, and converts 
the dreaded graveyard into a scene of sylvan beauty and 
attraction to the living. Its products wherever found, are 
freely enjoyed by all, they are not owned solely by one, but are 
a boon of pleasure to all alike. Its principles are the same as 
those of the art of painting, universally considered the climax 
of all fine Art. Tlie latter paints the picture, the former 
designs the ground and plants on it tlie sylvan features in 
whose grateful shade postei'ity will rejoice. Being forced 
to dig the ground and plant therein the seeds of future charms, 
it is called '•■ gardening," a name which causes erroneous 
impressions in many minds, and tempts quite often the real 
material gardener to consider himself also a true landscai^e 



10 KUKAL TASTE. 

gardener. Tliis is one of the many dirticulties whieli impede 
the progress of so useful and practical a branch of Art. 

Another obstacle to the progress of correct ideas in rural 
improvements is found in the strange apathy entertained by 
many against an Art, which they suppose to be subservient only 
to tlie wishes of the wealthy class, who desire to surround 
their i)alatial mansions with pleasure grounds of exquisite and 
costly beauty, l)ut useless to people of moderate means and 
pretentions. While it cannot be denied that wealth is the 
priixcipal protector of Art in general, and employs in con- 
sequence a branch of it in each resp.^ctive department of 
decoration, by which process artistic conceptions are fostered 
among the masses of the people, it is nevertheless a strange 
phenomenon of the proverbial sagacity of our people, that a 
more rational line of division is not drawn when the intrinsic 
and practical value of this Art is judged and quite frequently 
pronounced as useless to the farmer or contented country 
gentleman. The famous parks and })leasure grounds of both 
continents are based on the principles learned and carefully 
studied from the forests and the meadows, nature's scenery ; they 
are an artistic return to nature. Why should a farmer who 
wishes to protect his homestead by groves of stately trees sneer 
at a rational suggestion, offered by the Art of landscape 
planting, of how to plan and t) execute the desired improve- 
ment, with a full assurance of creating thereby not merely the 
desired barrier against the inclemencies of the climate, but 
also a scene of native beauty, sure to benefit the family circle 
in a mental and not merely in a physical ])oint of view ? 

The mission of this Art is a two-fold one in our country. It 
is destined to development in perfection, and in extent, finding 
its way into every homestead of the land on whose soil a few 
befitting trees can grow. The wide-spread park of the 
European nobleman, and the exquisite lawn and flower garden 
of the merchant prince of America, must be met by thousands 
of attractive homes of the rural population, nestled cozily in 
simple scenes of shade and smiling lawn and meadow. No 
country has a greater interest in a universal recognition of this 
modest Art than ours, blessed with independent homes 
owned by the people and not by overbearing landlords and 
oppressors. 



RURAL TASTE. 11 

The observiitioiis of many years spent in the trying serviee 
of this Art, have convinced tlie writer of these pages that a 
(lay of more generally disseminated practical conceptions of 
those featnres of natnre's simple charms, which can really be 
transplanted into the close vicinity of every home, can only be 
expected when the dormant intelligence of the people is aronsed 
in. that direction in popular education. This branch of Art 
has to 1)0 engrafted into the ]iopular mind by the same means 
in which all knowledge in Art and Science is perpetuated and 
advanced through education from generation to generation. 
So long as it is ignored or neglected at this tribunal of general 
intelligence, so long will the subject arrest the attention of but 
the few, who have it either from natural intuition and love of the 
cause, or are aroused by the eloquent example met while traveling- 
far and wide, but renuiin a matter of utter indifference to the 
many owners of the American soil ; so long will the evidences 
of correct rural taste be few and far a})art, at least in the real 
agricultural districts where they might Ijc universal, if men- 
tioned at least in liberal })ublic instruction. 

The effort of outlining the fuiulamental i)rinciples involved, 
ill plain and practical words, which can readily be understood 
by all, is made in a desire to show the subject from its most 
practical point of view, that each reader may jndge in how 
far a general knowledge of tlie siibject would benefit the 
scenic aspects of both town and country. It is intended, 
however, likewise as an appeal to the instructors of the popular 
masses of the people on the one hand, and to the intelligence 
of Young America on the other hand. The question of 
recognition of the subject in education is to be decided by the 
educators. The flower of our youth who throng the halls 
of colleges and universities are in reality more rationally 
interested in questions of material and artistic development of 
the country than those at the head of the affairs of life at the 
present time, and they may be in some respects more apt to 
conviction and progression than their sires. Broad, liberal 
and modern ideas of public improvements studied and 
assimilated in college will greatly assist the highly educated 
young citizen to become a leader of progress in his respective 
sphere of life. A few lessons learned in nuitters of rural taste 



12 RURAL TASTE. 

may therefore prove a useful investment of the college years. 
But we may as well expect to gather grapes from thorns and 
figs from thistles as to hope that ])ractical ideas of artistic 
rural taste will l^e infused into the minds of the rising 
generation l)y our cherished systems of mental training so 
long as the immediate surroundings of the edifices of education 
are left untouched by the hand of Art, or are ])ermitted to be 
improved by the merest fancy of any one ignorant of the 
simjilest axioms of landscape gardening. If any spot of 
ground in this broad land deserves the refining touch of truly 
artistic improvement, however inexpensive it may ))e, it is 
assuredly the ground of the school and the college, in which 
are trained tlie minds and eyes of those who, in the near 
future, will join the column of progression whose onward 
course is irresistible, defying all agencies of hindrance and 
prejudice. 

The powerful engine, propelling the mighty train of the 
moral and intellectual culture of tliis nation is fully aide to 
protect a cause, strangely ignored for its apparent modesty's 
sake, yet nevertheless an important factor in the construction 
of the true American home, on the purity and culture of which 
both church and state de])end for their securitv and j)er[)etual 
welfare. 

■'As in the creation of the physical world, monsters and mastt)dous 
roamed and ruled amid the forming chaos, before a garden could be 
prepared for agricultural man, so in the evolution of the ultimate 
results in the mental and moral world, the monstrosities of fashion- 
able, professional and fantastic life are necessarily first and fullest in 
their development, before the angel forms destined to keep and to 
dress this great garden of our God, shall walk abroad in the full 
majesty of their glory and their strength." — Prof. J. B. Turner. 



PRIXCIPLES OF AKT. 



What is Art '■! Should any one he permitted to raise sueli 
a question among artistic ^^eople, surrounded on every side l)y 
Art's productions ? Yet notwitlistanding the generality of its 
diffusion amongst all classes of society, many are unprepared 
and unable to give a rational explanation, much less a mani- 
festation of the same, when called upon so to do. It resembles 
in this respect the volumes of fashionable religion afloat in our 
day, which many enjoy, not for the good of it, ])ut liecause 
others do the same. 

Almost everybody will admit that a colored print, a chromo, 
with Avhich the community is so liberally supplied, is the 
j)roduct of not only one, but of double Art, the art of painting 
and the art of printing — of fine art and of mechanical art. 

Why do we sing in church ? To attract God's attention in 
our direction or to express the emotion of our heart, Ijy the 
aid of melodious tones as praises of the Creator ? Listening 
to Nature's unwritten, ever sounding melody, man has devel- 
oped the art of Music in which he expresses the melodious 
phantasies of his mind, in endless variety of harmonious 
sounds, artistically associated. We gaze in wonder at the colos- 
sal statue erected to tJie memory of one of the great men of 
history, and recognize therein the true likeness of him whom 
the nation delights to honor. The statue may l)e cut out 
of stone, or may be cast in metal ; it is, nevertheless, a per- 
sonification of the Art of Sculpture. 

In order to arrive at the true aims and purposes of Art, let 
us examine closely an attractive picture. For the sake of 
those Avho live solely for utility's sake, and to attract their 
special attention, we choose a useful subject. We take the 
picture of a horse. What is it that calls forth our admiration 
of the picture ? It has two distinct causes. First, the picture 
is a true representation of the noble animal ; each line and 
form is true to nature. The artist did not try to add any 
imaginary idea of his own, by which the likeness w^ould have 



14 RURAL TASTE. 

been marred or spoiled altogether. Secondly, the picture 
represents the animal in greater perfection of form, and in a 
more spirited composure, than we generally meet in nature. 
Tlie artist has painted a finer, a more perfect horse than we 
have ever met before. In order to do this he had to study 
closely all the beautiful forms of many different horses, together 
with all their graceful motions, and unite all the individual 
traits of perfection into one picture, wliieli is thus a i)roduct 
of his own imagination, yet still tlie likeness of a horse in all })ar- 
ticulars. Testing a fine landscape painting in a similar manner, 
we find each tree, each forest group, tlie valley with the river 
flowing through it precisely as we see them in nature ; Init the 
painting represents a landscaj)e of such perfect beauty, that 
we are at a loss to say where we could find such a charming 
.scene in nature. The painter's inuigination has jiroduced the 
type of perfection of a landscape, by comluning the ideal l)eauty 
of many different scenes into one picture. 

Art works, therefore, in three distinct directions. It copies, 
it composes, and it studies nature, from which it draws all its 
ideas and examples. In copying Art, imitatiou of the minu- 
test detail of form and color, will be considered as [ erfection. 
In composition, tlie true genius of the master finds its wiikvst 
scope. On this field the leading masters have won tlK'ir lau- 
rels and imperishable fame. 

The study of nature is a held open to all, it is indispensable 
to the artist who materially reproduces the patterns of natui'e 
in his work. Nor is it less indispensable to all avIio wish pro- 
jierly to judge the products of Art, who wish to be considered 
connoisseurs of Art, a knowledge demanded of every fit nieinher 
of a truly polite society, and the absence of which will speedily lie 
detected, however polished the individual may otherwise appear. 
In a wider sense the study of nature and of art exercises the 
most ennobling and refining influences upon the mind, and will 
materially assist in bringing it into full harmony with nature 
and thereby in harmony with the Creator. It is the l)road 
foundation on which has been reared the aesthetic culture of 
mankind, Avhich has culminated in the artistic and educated 
age in which we live. How great would be its benefits and 
blessings to the masses of the people, if fostered in popular 



RURAL TASTE. 15 

€duc;itioii, yet how unpopular is the subject with niuuy of our 
lenriied educators I 

Tlie domain of Art is as wide as the universe, not only of 
nature but of imagination. It is, however, hedged in l)y the 
principle of intrinsic truth to nature. Overstepping this 
natural boundary line, wo enter the realm of absurdity, we 
pervert, we murder Art. How readily therefore should medi- 
ocrity and false Art be detected, yet how often do tliey rea}) 
an undue reward of merit ! 



THE PRINCIPLES OF TASTE. 



A\'e do not speak liere of jieople's fancies or preferences for 
one thing or another, erroneously called their taste, much less 
of their sensual or epicurean tastes, whieli lie at the l)ottom of 
all their troubles. We speak of taste in Art, and in polite 
society in whicli Art is truly at home. Taste in tiiis sense 
implies an impression made upon others. Its first rc(jusite is, 
therefore, that in order to deserve the name, tlie im[)ression 
must please others, as well as the individual from whom it 
emanates. Just here much offense is taken and given also. If 
only pleasing to one's self, it is not necessarily taste, l)ut mere 
fancy, and as many ])eo})le think their fancies excellent taste, 
they imagine they have a right to feel offended if all the world 
does not approve their standartl. In order to l)e a source of 
pleasure to the many, it must stand on a platform on wliicli 
the multitude can meet and agree. 

Referring to the principles which govern Art, we have 
likewise the principles of correct taste. Intrinsic truth to 
nature is the ground on which all can meet with satisfaction 
and with pleasure, in all matters relating to artistic questions. 
In all other departments of life, the common })latform upon 
which we all may meet is sound judgment — vulgarly called 
common sense. Correct taste means therefore the a}i])robation 
of the many to something composed of judiciously selected parts. 



16 RUEAL TASTE, 

united into a harmonious whole. It is the selection of harmonious 
parts judiciously associated. False taste must, therefore, be a 
mistake made in either the selection or the combination of 
parts, quite often faulty in both respects. Correct taste in 
Art is a selection of particles of a?sthetic beauty, found in the 
many individuals of a certain kind, a harmonious union of 
which produces the type of perfection of that kind. Correct 
taste in dress, in speech, in manners, is governed by the same 
principle of excellence of parts and titness of tlie whole. An 
ill selected ribbon, a vulgar expression, or an awkward motion 
is often ruinous to the whole effort made. 

Correct taste in religion is judicious selection of sOngs of 
praise to God, associated with appropriate words and deeds 
expressive of kindly feelings to our fellow man. Correct taste 
in our homes is congruity of the interior and the exterior of 
the house. Where this harmony is missing, the outside world 
is at liberty to suppose that art and culture are painted only 
on the inside walls, but not in the interior mind of the inmates, 
however elegant they may outwardly appear, 

Xatural Taste, Some minds are peculiarly endowed by 
nature to perceive and enjoy a trace of beauty in all natural 
objects with which t'ley come in contact. Xo work of nature, 
however homely it may appear, is deficient in some element of 
beauty which, being modest in itself is overlooked and ignored 
by the general observer. The mind in constant harmony with 
nature detects such elements of })erfection at the first sight of 
the object. The faculty of perception is joined with a faculty 
of harmonious association of the stray particles of beauty, 
with any object and on any occasion upon which they can be 
fitly united. This species of natural taste is the principle of 
decoration by which all walks of life, and more especially the 
home, is made attractive. 

Individual Taste, is not, as has been observed above, 
identical with individual fancy, but is natural taste exercised in 
a certain direction or devoted to a certain object, or group of 
objects. It is, therefore, controlled by natural preferences 
possessed by the individual. This we call individual taste in 
music, or in painting, as the case may be. Man's love of Art, 



RI'UAL TASTE. IT 

varying in dilferent individuals in tlie ciuUcss variety l)ot\veon 
positive love and negative indiflferonee, is thus in one sense a 
testimony of his individual taste. In the other, however, it is a 
sure indication of the degree of development of the fundamental 
aesthetic jirineijjle within himself. All other faculties of liis 
mind, the interaction of which we call his character, will in 
great measure be swayed by this ])rinciple. whi(']i the Ci'eator 
designed to be the govei'iior (^f human nature. AVhen in fni! 
force it makes the true nobk'man of nature : when weak and 
suljdued by seltishness, that leading virtue of utility, it 
becomes the stamp of rudeness in human nature. This 
}»rinciple nuikes the genuine man. or the true woman, no 
matter in what walk of life and fortune accident may have 
jjlaced tliem. Xobility of nature is. therefore, not contined 
to educated and polite society but is a boon of hap})iness also 
in the cottage of the lowly. It is a divinity sent to the •• class 
of thinkers." as well as to tlie " mass of workers." 

Public Tasti:. Logically considered this should be a, 
compound of the individual tastes possessed by those who make 
up the masses, liut as such it would 'lave no distinct form of 
expression. A medium harmonizing individual tastes is. 
therefore, necessary to ex})i'ess clearly the character of ])ublic 
taste. An element of weakness in human natniv assists the 
shaping process not only of public taste, but also of public 
opinion. 

Singly the mind is self-reliant, independent ; when in an 
association with many otliers, a majority of minds lose their 
independence and conse([uently a part of their force. The 
masses l)ecome. therefore, the ready jn-ey of certain leadei's 
and resemble a herd of sheep in their willingness to follow. 
The history of the human race is but a history of the leadership 
of the few and the following of the many. Each epoch has 
had its leaders in politics, in religion, in science and in art. 
Public opinion or public taste is therefore an expression of 
certain ideas, general or artistic, entertained and in vogue at 
a certain time. As the necessities of daily life are ever of 
foremost importance in human affairs, they receive in conse- 
quence the first attention at the hands of Art. which expresses 



18 RL'KAL TASTE. 

in their design tlie urtistie ideas of the day in which tliey are 
made. The forms of costumes and of all articles of daily use, 
are. therefore, the exitoncnts of the public taste of their day. 
We recognize in them the standard of the culture and refine- 
ment of a people. They indicate the endless chain of 
progression on whicli the princi]ilcof taste has been developed 
from its crudest foi-m to the heights of its perfection in our 
day. The general adoption of these forms expressed l)y the 
aid of art is what we call the reign of fashion. The greater 
the degree of the artistic culture of a nation, the more prolific 
will it be in the develoi)ment of new ideas in the domain of 
fashion ; and the more nipid will be the succession in which 
new models of design and fa!)ric follow each other — theoftener 
in other words will fashion change. 

This change of fashion is a subject re})lete with mystery ; 
nay, with consternation at times to well meaning, saving and 
contented people, who wonder at the constant fluctuation of 
fashion. " Who makes these ruinous fashions ? '" is a question 
often asked ; and naturally the dry goods and millinery shop 
keepers are suspected as implicated in the "■corner." In 
justice to this much abused class of people, let it be said that 
the cause is a very natural one and they are, therefore, 
wrongfully accused. The centers of Art. those cities in which 
the greatest number of designing artists are congregated, are 
of necessity the centers from which fashion takes its start, 
fnnn which it visits each handet of the land. Nobody needs 
to wonder that our "modes'' come from Paris, London or 
New York, or from any far olf city to which distance lends 
always an additio]ud enchantment. This is the very way with 
fashion. Public taste in its identity with fashion has a twin 
sister in })ublic o})inion. of which it is truthfully said that it 
is " fickle as the wind and relentless as the grave.'' 

Public taste in any branch of the fine arts, may be termed 
the accepted standard of perfection most pleasing to the 
greatest number and, therefore, most ])opular with all who 
judge in most cases su})erficially, regardless of the principle 
involved in their choice. The gayest colors, the most amusing 
forms, the most exciting music, will thus often be the taste of 
the masses from which all ti'ue students of art dissent if such 



Kl'KAL TASTE. 19 

productions are not in liarniony with the principle of refined 
taste. This class of tlie public lias a standard of taste entirely 
their own, which is p()i)ular oidy in the circle of purely polite 
society, graced by testhetic culture and true refinement. 

Of the motors of public taste we design to speak on a future 
page ; Init one of its most powerful levers is wortliy of mention 
in this connection. The art of printing has inaugurated a 
new era not only in X.\\v intellectual development of nmnkind, 
but also in the domain of Art. The invention of the art of 
photogra})liy and the marvelous })erfection to which the art of 
color printing has attained, have disseminated anunigst all 
classes of society a variety and a stu})endous multitude of artistic 
productions, which cannot fail to elevate the standard of 
public taste to a height aiul extent of which to dream a few 
deciKles ago, would have been considered a wild })haidasy. The 
world's treasures of Art, hoarded jealously in many galleries, 
are in one sense thrown oi en to all the world, and Art, together 
with all the pleasures and refiidng intluences flowing from it, 
is no longer as in the past the hund)le servitor of wealth and 
power, biit the daily and cheerful cominuiion of the masses of 
the peo})le. thus only fairly started on the mission assigned 
to it l)y the Creator, when he planted tlie gai'den eastward in 
Eden. 

•' In lioj sio'uo viiieeiuus."" 



FLOKAL TA8TE. 



While mentioning the princi})le of the art of decoi'ation, we 
nuiy Inive involuntarily tliongiit of floriculture, the most 
prominent factor of decoration in our present day. The, 
florist considers himself, therefore, an artist of the tirst-chiss 
and fortifies his claim to correct and refined taste by the 
charges made for his })roducti(tns, which cover always three 
distinct items : namely, the material actually used, the time 
and ilio-nitv consumed in talkino- the matter over, and the 



20 KURAL TASTE. 

artistic skill needed to make up the design in style and to 
have it ready at the ap})ointed time. Floral devices univer- 
sally met in ])olite circles of society on various occasions, 
festive or mournful, enjoy a decided advantage over all other 
products of art. as they are universally admired. The material 
nsed in their com})oiition. fi-agrant flowers and graceful leaves., 
is so fascinating on all minds, that no one is unkind enough 
to find fault with the disi)roportion of component parts, in 
most cases unavoidable, owing to the nature of material used. 
This In-anch of art has uuuk' the most wonderful progress 
within the last decade, and is recognized as the leading, th(- 
indisi)ensahle factor of decoration, with wliicli tlie fashioiuihle 
circles of soc-iety couhl in no wise disi)ense. 

No gift of nature speaks nmre tenderly, nioi'c lovingly ti^ 
the mind than the pure Howcr, awakening I'ven in llu'inost 
stoic utilitarian a feeling of delight, wliich has no reference 
to any personal gain that might result thin-effotn. hut is long- 
ing for that mysterious something, lacking in his situl, the 
union of the mind and the principle of heauty. lie nniy con- 
sider the flower the most useless and expensive thing that any 
one can have ; hut he cannot shake off the imjjression though 
only momentary it nniy he. made on his inward better nature. 
We need not wondei' that flowers aiv simply iiiseparalile from 
human society, nor that tlieir culture is the noljlest branch of 
Horticultui'e. They are justly the foremost factors of inspira- 
tion in the art of design and decoration, the universal material 
used by the hand of refined taste in every walk of life. And 
at the entrance to the tomi), when earthly love and affection 
are jiaralyzed by gi'ief. what more befitting token can hi- 
dropped upon the grave of the departing friend, entering his 
last resting })hice, than the silent, the lovely flower. Yet we 
read of late quite fre(piently in funeral notices in high life 
the request "' No flowers "', made l)y the hereaved family to 
prevent the excess, but by no means the judicious use of 
flowers. Refined taste not only selects hut governs also the 
combinations of the material used, and fondly offered hy 
sympathizing friends. Floral decorations, however exquisite 
they may be, cease to he a tasteful medium of decoration 
when present on any occasion in excessive numl>ers. 



RURAL TASTE. 21 



EURAL TASTE. 



The rnnil taste of our countrv as exiiressed in tlie grounds 
surroundiii.o- tlie homesteads of the people at hirge must of 
necessity be viewed fi-om two dirt'erent })()ints of ()l)sei'vation. 
It must he considered in aocordanee with the natural division 
of the people, as tasti^ j)revailino- either in the country, 
amongst the agricultural i-hisses, and taste in and around the 
cities of the land. The centers of po})ulation, of wealth and 
of culture, the large cities of the country exercise a direct 
influence on a certain circumference around them, which is 
manifested in all departments of rui-al life, in architecture, 
in highways and drive-;, and more cs[)ecially in the honu^, 
grounds of the peo])le, who arc in reality a portion of the city 
population. It is evident that tlu' improvements of these 
subur))s, or of towns in their vicinity hearing the same relation 
to the cities, cannot 1)e rati(»nally compared to the districts in 
which the great agricultural masses live. A comparison of 
the causes, however, which have })roiluced the scenic aspects 
of l)oth opposites, city and country, may he profitable, ami 
may open a line of rational argunu-nt on which alone some 
})ractical suggestions may be })rescnted. l)y which a decided 
improvement and elevation of the standard of rural taste can 
l)e effected, amongst that very numerous class of inhabitants 
of the rural districts, who have thus far considered the ipies- 
tion of rural improvements in their relation to scenic beauty, 
as a matter unsuited to the circumstances of the working, 
agricultural classes, or have paid no attention to them at all. 
It may be presumed that no one will deny that any honiestead 
whatever is benefited in many ways Ijy pleasant surroundings ; 
and it mayl)e presumed therefore, likewise, that the feasibility 
of any plan proposed to secure such benefits will l)e im})artially 
considered by all who wish to live and move in harmony with 
the progressive spirit (jf our present day. 

Let us consider, therefore, the crudest type of impulse — 
taste it cannot be called, which has preceded the conceptions 
of taste in general — called into existence by true civilization. 



32 KURAL TASTE. 

The origimil owner of the American soil was inspired by a 
natural impulse of deep and silent reverence for the grandeur 
and solemnity of his home, the forest and the plain. Scenic 
nature was his temple of worship of a higher Being, the 
unknown God of nature, to such extent as the savage condi- 
tion of his existence would permit. Tiie gentle lispings of 
the zephyrs through the leafy boughs and the tree tops were 
to him a manifestation of the great, the all-pervading Spirit. 
These fundamental traits of his religious conceptions, if such 
they can be called, have develojjed those sullen, pensive and 
tricky peculiarities of his race. He loved the forest, its trees 
and shady glades, and never dreamed of using his physical 
strength in their de8tructi(ju, but desired to preserve the 
native beauty of liis iidieritance. and td hand it down to a 
new generation of liraves, as he liad received it from his 
ancestors. We need not wonder, therefore, at the displeasure 
and vexation with wliich he observed the arrival of ininii- 
grants from af'ar, who came to destroy the forest, and to 
disturb the quietness of his hunting gi-ounds. The rural 
taste of the newly arrived invaders being the very opposite of 
those of the dominant race, disputes and l)loody battles and 
long-continued wars ensued, the end of whidi was the expul- 
sion of the sons of nature, the conliscation of their lands, 
and the inauguration of a new, a christian era in the history 
of the continent. 

The Indian race was followed by a race of sturdy pioneers 
of civilization, who braved the dangers and privations of the 
wilderness, to found their modest homes, where no one should 
hinder them from worshipping (rod in accordance with the 
dictates of their own conscience. The impulse of the pioneer 
was a very simple ty}ie of taste also : but the reverse of the 
Indian idea. He stood scjuarely on the basis of utility, he 
meant business in full earnest, and could thus not be expected 
to parley with the Indian principle of beauty, nor with mat- 
ters of mere appearance as did the people of the city. To 
him a tree, or grove, or a majestic forest, incumbering valua- 
ble grounds, was simply a nuisance which had to be al)ated as 
soon as circumstances would permit. 

The Indian's idea is in one sense the principle of the 



RURAL TASTE. 23 

fundamental conceptions of civilization expressed in every 
department of Art. It is a recognition, an admiration of the 
principle of beauty in nature, an indisputable proof of the 
existence of the SBsthetie principle in nnin. wliich is the 
foundation of his character, savage though he may be. It 
prompts him, in the al)senc? of a knowledge of the true (lod, 
to adore nature, or any part thereof, or an idea C(mceived in 
harmony tlierewith as D^ity itself. It prompts the savage to 
decorate his body l)efore he thinks of raiment foi' it — an evi- 
dence of tlie recDgnition in the savage mind of the pi'incipK"' 
of. beauty, one of the fundamental ideas of civilization. The 
pioneer's idea is the principle of utility of adaptation of 
nature's gifts to liuman wants. It is tlie principle of energy, 
whilst the Indian idea is the principle of indolence, and yet 
not of indolence alone, hut of envy and jeah)usy against all 
who wish to make ;t I'ational use of miture's hountic:-;. Aiul 
in passing, it may here l)e said, that the Indian failed to 
take this deadening princi[)le along with him to liis reser- 
vation, but left a goodly portion bcdiinil. a> a bone of 
contention for the paL^-faces. This negative of improvement 
is still alive in very m;iiiv. wliose })l'ine of s')_Mat stanling and 
standard of general culture sliouhl have long conviuceil them 
of the principle of hindrance, of ob-iti-action to rational pi-o- 
gression, which they repi'eseiit. whilst holding fast to the 
worst remnant of the Indian's retrograde, selfish idea. 

A compound of the two princi})les. art and utility, is what we 
call civilization, culture, and I'etinement. It is the sjnrit of 
our present age. Viewed from a narrower point of observa- 
tion it is the spirit dwelling witiiiu tlu' innumerable beautiful 
and attractive grounds met everywhere within a cei-tain radius 
of a progressive modern city. 

We have started out to consider the difference of cause of 
the scenic aspects of the country and the city. It is conclus- 
ively explained by what has l)een said above, making even 
due allowance for the diffei-ence of wealth and of general 
culture of either section. 

The principle of utility is the all-powerful motor of im- 
provement in the agricultural districts, the principle of utility 
combined with art pervades the city and its su})url)s. Some 



24: RURAL TASTE. 

etill the clitt'ereuce, sneeriiigiy. a mere question of gardeniug, 
aiu1 refuse to see, or at least to acknowledge, the true cause 
involved in the (|ue.stion which is one of culture, nevertheless, 
not of material garden culture, but of true mental culture, of 
which tJic modest service of gardening is only the manifes- 
tation of the spirit Avliich controls its operations. 

The laws of eternal progression bring fortli the different 
generations, the last of which is always an improvement on 
its predecessors. That this is ti-ue in the various departments 
of life, is plainly manifested by all outward appearances of 
the country. Think of the farmer's dwelling house and its 
interior furniture, twenty-live or fifty years ago. Art and its 
cultivating influence liave invaded every dwelling of the land, 
and tlie standard of strict utility is dni})i)e(l long ago, I'eplaced 
by one of judicious economy, proportioned to tlnancial cir- 
cumstances. Should one deny that this indwelling spirit of 
improvement has regenerated also the grounds surrounding 
the rural homes, has made them to blossom as a rose in 
innumerable instances, he would do great injustice to tlie age 
in which we live, lint it can be asserted with the fullest 
truth that the standanl of stern utility has bt'cn maintained 
more tenaciously in this than in auv ot her dcpai'tnient of rura 
life, and that the ide;i of harmouizini the taste dis])layed in 
the interior of the home to that prevailing in its most imme- 
diate surroundings, has never cccurred to many tasteful and 
even highly educated j)eople. They c(jnsider the house their 
residence, but tlie yard around it. destined by God and nature 
for the domestic aninuds, and cannot see any connecting link 
between the two. but utility and daily necessity. To im})rove 
the yard in any way is considered an innocent freak of 
extravagance which might as well be left alone, as the stock 
will surely destroy it. This idea previuls not only "away out 
in the country,"" Init in many towns and their surroundings, 
where })eople of otherwise refined tastes and conce})tions live ; 
yet, notwithstanding, a desire to decorate the home grounds 
returns almost uinversally with the wake of .Spring, and 
more or less is ex})ended l>y ahnost everyl)ody, in one way or 
another. 

But to connect the (juestion of what to do and what to 



KUKAL TASTE. 25 

leave undone, strictly with the standard by whicli all other 
matters of good taste are measured, to view the outside 
grounds as the foregrounds of the elegant })arlor or drawing 
room, to compare their sylvan aspect with that of the costly 
landscape painting on the wall, to view in one word the ques- 
tion of improvement of the ground in the liglit of Art ami 
all surrounding rerinement, tiiis idea occurs to l)ut com})ara- 
tively few. Attem})ts made in improvements lack, tlierefore, 
entirely tlie guidance of correct ta^te. are dictateil only ])y 
an impulse of fancy, and most people are unable to give any 
other explanation of what they call pretty, nice, or beautiful, 
than that it pleases them. Occasionally a combin:ition of 
lucky circumstances develops a certain place in sucli a neigh- 
l)orliood. whicli by its sim})le grace and natural beauty is 
universally admired, is [»ronounced perfect in all respects, 
exactly as in the case of the beautiful grounds seen in the 
close vicinity of some leading city. The inward cause of the 
beauty of that place is simply its intrinsic truth to nature, 
which everybody enjoys, tiiough ])erliaps ign(n"ant of the real 
cause. Let us sto[) a farmer who happens to drive by. and 
hear his views of such a place, intelligent as he is. he does 
not deny the beauty of the place ; the ;¥sthetic principle in 
him is aroused, and he admires what he sees, but the stern 
})rinciple of utility tells him it would not do for himself and 
his neighl)ors. but that it is well enough for tlic I'ich who can 
afford such luxuries. He sujiposes the beauty of the ])lace is 
altogether purchased by the outlay of money, and this is the 
cause of his fright and fear of such a luxury. C(»uld he but 
be persuaded that what really attracts his mind, is not pro- 
duced by money, but by the sim})]e use nnule of a fixed law 
of scenic miture, offered in one sense of the word, free to 
everybody who chooses to study it and nnike ai)})lication of it 
at home, then surely a good lesson would have ])een sent into 
his whole neighborhood. But he passes on. Now should 
that same intelligent nuin get stalled in a mud hole of the 
road, he would intelligently explain and excuse the mishap by 
saying, what so many of his kind believed, that it is 
impossible to have good roads and a good farming country at 
tlie same time and in the same place. How great is the 



36 RURAL TASTB. 

difference of opinion existing in tiie realm of progress and 
improvement ! How necessary is it. therefore, to view all 
questions in the light of good reason and of sound judgment. 

In the social circles of the city, life is not viewed solely in 
its aspects of utility, but also in those of appearance, of art 
and beauty. The art of design or decoration is in conse- 
quence consulted and employed in every department, and 
imjirovements of whatever kind are coiiducted in accordance 
with tlie in-iuciple of these arts. The art of design of orna- 
mental grounds is cm])h»yed when the owner of a certain ])iece 
of ground, in which in most cases his suburban home is 
erected, desires to im})rove the ground, not only in hai'mony 
with the style of arcliitecture of his house. l)Ut nioi'c so in 
liarmony with the ai'tistic i(h'a of Ids (hiy, expecting to 
display therel)y the nature of his own refined taste, to increase 
the value of his property, ami to l)enetit the attracti\eness 
ami beauty of his city. The ai-t which he employs is based 
like every other branch of art on cei'tain fixed principles, 
which produce with mathomati(;al certainty, certain effects 
and features of attractive l)eauty. 'flici-c is. tliei'efore. no 
groping in the dai'k. no useless ex|)enditure of funds to l»e 
feared, an<l the nsults of tiie progress of improvement will 
be those desired, those on which the calculation was l)ased. 
and no disai)pointment and loss of enjoyment of tlie ]ilace 
need })e apprehended. 

This is the i-ational cause, by some considered a mere 
({uestion of gardening, which calls forth these wonderful 
improvements, gracing so many streets of the leading cities, 
and converting whole districts of their vicinity into widespread 
rural parks, those true exponents of American taste and 
liberality of enterprise, the subui-ban ornamental grounds in 
which the peo})le really live and not oidy promenade on certain 
occasions. These residence districts of American cities ex- 
tending along the cliarming rivers and hillsides in their 
vicinity, are the true landmarks of Amorican Rural Taste. 
They are the centers from which tlie ideas of true and aesthetic 
conceptions in rural matters have been disseminated throush- 
out tlie masses of the American people. 

Visitors from a distance, gazing in astonishment at such 



EURAL TASTE. -^7 

enchanting scenes of art and utility combined, attribute the dif- 
ference presented to their wandering eyes, accustomed oidy to 
tlie agricultural aspect of their homes, to the accumulated 
wealth of the large cities, and take with them a feeling of regret 
at the uneven distribution of riches. They never think of the 
ratioiud causes, which under entirely different circumstances 
even, would produce similar etfects amidsr their own honu's. 
Others however are differently attected by what they see when 
away from home. The a'Stiietic ])rinciplc within isj>owerfully 
aroused, they reason and ponder on the source of pleasure 
thns presented to their minds. Their natural taste is awak- 
ened, and reinforced l>y tlic elo<iuent lessons of art and correct 
taste before them, they realize the folly of mere guess work in 
ornamental gardening and return home far wiser in correct 
taste, and take with tliem a new idea of imitro\ cment. They 
avail tliemselves of the assistance of the art whose products 
they had so much admired. Their home gnninds undergo a 
change, wliich many of their neighbors regard witli real sor- 
row. su})posing that the ivmoval of a nund)er of useless and 
olnioxious trees, is ctjuivaleiit to the utter ruin of the jilace. 
But presently a new idea, a new design is visil)]e to all. and 
thus the doom of much tastelessness and nonsensicality in 
that neighborhood is sealed. Ka])})ily. good taste, like malaria. 
is contagious, and one example of true art and utility com- 
bined, Avill often do a wonderful work of progivssion in a with' 
circumference around. This is the way that art in all its 
branches has been advanced and encouraged. In this wise 
were tjie first models of the art (jf oriuimental gardening 
introduced in this countiw. taking root first o]i the i)ictures(pU' 
Hudson, and then in all the suburbs of the Atlantic cities. 
Once fairlv established on American soil, its blessed mission 
ovei' all the land was gloriously accomidishcd. 

The })roducts of the art of architecture and of landscape 
gardening are truly philanthropic in their very nature; they are 
not created solely for their owner. l)ut are a boon to all who 
pass by them. They are the unselfish gifts of wealth to all 
mankind. Their missionary })rinci2)le. their lilessed influ- 
ence on the community at large is greatly owing to this 
peculiarity. They are. in onsequence. the great motors of 



28 KUKAL TA8TE. 

public taste and true artistic conceptions, which lind their 
way and imitation in endless ramiiications into the life blood 
of the masses of tlie people. Wealtli expended in their crea- 
tion is money nobly and gracefully returned to the community 
amongst whom it has l)een accumulated. Is this not a sul)ject 
<if interesting study to numy. who silently wish to use some of 
rhe surplus of their wealth in a channel through which tlieir 
fellow men may really and constantly l)e beiietitted ^ 

Wealth has ever l)een, and will forever l)e tlie motive power 
of art and lead the masses to retined taste and culture. l-5ut 
happily, correct taste as generated by the fine arts is not the 
sole possession of that chiss of society whicli lives sumptuously 
and dresses in broadclotli and tine linen. Xature's storehouse 
of infinite beauty, hei' charming scenery, is open to all alike. 
The more the })rincipk' of its indwelling attraction to the 
soul is understood by the individual and by the masses, th(^ 
greater will In- the source of pU'asure free to all. and the; 
more will they learn tliat wisdom from wliich alone all true 
contentment springs. The closer our acfpiaintance with the 
inmost secrets of scenic nature, the greater will Ije the desire 
to associate its features of lieauty with our homes, and the 
more will we l)e the recipients of all the nu)ral and nuiterial 
benefits which charming nature inculcates into the affairs of 
human life. 

•■Scientia Reo;iua Mumli." 



TASTE IN HORTICULTURE. 



Agriculture i)ro(luces the breadstutt's of the human family 
together with the raw nniterials of the leading manufactures 
of raiment and other articles of stern necessity. It feeds and 
clothes humanity. Horticulture, on the other hand. sup])lies 
the so-called tastes of numkind. It i)n)duces the wholesome 
and delicious fruits and culinary vegetal)le3, it strews the 
pathway of life with flowers, and furnishes all the nniterials 



KUKAL TASTE. 'ZV 

of (lecoratio)i, by which the ground, devoted to li;ibit;itioii, i.s 
iniideornanieutcd, distinguished from any otlier parcel of laud. 
Sup})lyiug so great a variety of huiuau wants, it must in 
consequence be a leading industry of the mition. Its tastes. 
or rather its aims and purposes, aiv therefore based on utilitv 
and protit, and should not be confounded with the fuuda- 
mental principle of aljstract taste, which is m)t utility solely, 
but utility coinbiu.ed with art. Tiiere is. however, a strange 
misunderstandiug in this nuitter l)y which uuiny things arc 
labled tn.''?fe which slioidd l)ear the honest nauie (»f jinifif. 
As mention has been uiade of the way in whicli the art of 
ornamental gardening reached the shores of this country, and 
by what means it has overrun the entire breadth of the land, 
it may be as well to view also the progress through which 
American horticulture, as an art of culture, ami a branch of 
commerce, has ])een developed. 

A knowledge of agriculture was possessed by the human 
family at all tinu's of its existence. Tlu' stei'uest necessities 
of life forced its practice and study in the foregrounds of 
human knowledge and occupation : the lirst adventurers to 
this continent possessed in consequence a full knowledge of 
how to subdue Avild mitui'e and to make the wilderness hi-ing 
forth the rich yields of tlie virgin soil. Little indeed did thev 
dream of the magnitude of the future euipire of production. 
(m which a mighty nation's wealth and commerce would for- 
ever rest, when laying the first foundation stones of the 
American Farm. AVith horticultui-c the case was entirely 
diiferent. Being an art of the culture of things not oidy good 
to eat, but also pleasant to the siglit. its chances in a new 
(jotmtry were slim and problematic for many years. The 
mother country had fostered for centuries a horticulture sub- 
servient solely to the demamls of the nol)ility and otliei- 
monopolies connected therewith, in itself entirely useless to 
a country in which this motive power did not exist. A new art 
knowledge, founded on utility, had to be called into existence. 
The fruits of the European continent had to be tested as to 
their adaptability to this country, and new varieties, the olf- 
spriiig of our own soil had to be produced. Some minds, 
sjiecially inspired to this mission take hold of the truly Her- 



30 lU'KAL TASTE. 

culean task. They study, cultivate and experiment and meet 
now and tiien for consultation, for exchange of knowledge and 
for mutual encouragement. This is the beginning of our 
Horticultural Societies, through which the flood of light, 
possessed in our day, has been disseminated, and by the aid 
and safe guidance of which American enterprise has acliieved 
the nuirvelous results in fruit culture which make the United 
■States the greatest fruit producing country of the globe. 

Many, whose names are highly hom)red as authorities in 
Pomology and Floriculture have likewise been the advocates 
and promoters of artistic rural improvements, and have con- 
tributed nobly to the advancement of the rural taste of the 
(Mjuntry. The greater majority of the so-called horticulturists 
however have been devoted almost exclusivly to the material, 
the paying industrial pursuits, having in conrie(|uence neither 
intuition nor inclination to hil)or in the mental vint'yard nf 
their calling. Theii- rcuninus and asseml^lies have necessarily 
had the same tenor and ins])ii-ation as the desires of their 
hearts, and with the exception of an occasional, gi'acefullv 
written essay on mental culture, i-ead to the meeting, matters 
of taste have l)een but seldom discussed, while the knowl- 
edge of ornamental trees and shrubs and flowers has been 
disseminated princi])ally })y, and for the special benetit of the 
iiursery trade. 

In the })rairie states, younger in years, but fullv efpial to 
their older sisters in intelligence and entei-j)rise. tlie sternest 
<lein m Is of necessity have forced tree-planting to tlie fore- 
ground of agricultural pursuits, and tlie imperative want of 
shade and protection from the excesses of the climate, has 
shaped the programme of horticultural societies somewhat 
different. The planting of shade trees, of groves, of timber 
belts around the homesteads and orchards is here a legitimate 
subject of discussion, and a woild of enterprise in tree plant- 
ing, not only for fruits but also for protection, for comfort 
-and for fuel, has tlierel)y been called into existence, thus 
(.'ausing the prairie home to blossom like the rose. The mar- 
velous results attained already in this direction, led on and 
boldly advocated by the most intelligent horticulturists of tiie 
several states, are Init the shadows of events sure to come in 



KL'KAL TASTE. 31 

the near future of a bi'oiuler aiul more enligliteiietl idea of 
western liortieulture ; not merely of fruit farming as in the 
past, but of tree and forest phintiny, by wliieh t\\v most fertile 
plains will truly be made the i)aradise of hunuin haI)itation. 
The attention of the foremost jiractieal minds of the nation, 
not merely in a hortieultui'al })oint of \ie\v, l)ut also in tht( 
broad light of political economy, is fairly aroused in favoi- of 
the American forest — })erser'uted and destroyed by the niarcli 
of civilization — laid waste and di-aint'd of its most valuabU' 
timbers by the unproportioned dennnids of the industries. — 
the forest once considered indestructilile and never ceasing in 
its yields of the most indispensable materials of manufactui'e 
and consti'uction. Tiie nation is awakened from this di'eam- 
ing slumber : it realizes the absolute necessity of ado[)ting a 
more enlightened jjolicy in the treatinent of its staunchest 
friend, the forest, the storehouse of the moisture of the 
atmosi)here, the regulator of the climate and the sup})lv of 
untold necessities in the economy of this enlightened land. A 
few pioneers have banded together again to develo}) a rationai 
system of Amei'ican foresti-y, they begin to asseml)le for con- 
sultation in conventions, and we are truly on the verge of a 
new dispensation of national horticulture on the gi'ar.dest 
scale. 



ATTRACTION 



What is tJie principle of attraction ])y which the individual 
is governed in the seleetion of the sjiot of ground, wliereon 
his home is to be erected and on which the increasing toil and 
labor of husbandry is to be expended 'f What is the princi})le 
which develops some sections of the country with wonderful 
rapidity, while other sections hang leisurely on the hands of 
of nature, and beg in vain for the life-giving touch of in- 
dustry? It is i)roductiveness of the soil and beauty of scenery. 
All want to live in a rich and beautiful and healthy country. 



32 RURAL TASTE. 

The early ciettlers possessed this natural intuition in a remark- 
able degree. They pieked the finest, the most fruitful section 
of each state and territory, and time lias established- in these 
the truest type of the rural population, in wliich the bonds of 
home and sacredness of tlie luitive soil are strono-est. One 
generation of conservative people, who know how to pi'ize the 
possessions of their ancestors,, who really love their native 
place, follows the other. Kui'al life has here its stronghold, 
and exercises its benehcial influences on the body politic of 
the state. How different is the case in otlier sections less 
favoretl i)y this bountiful band of nature I Their poj)ulation is 
continually agitated by a spirit of unrest, by a tendency to sell 
out at any time to remove to Texas or to the far west. Xo 
real love of the native soil can here exist, while so endless a 
c]u)ice of new and moi'c a<lvantageous homes, is offered to all 
who wish to better tlicii' (.'oiulition. 

Tlu' [)riuciplc of atti'acti(>n is identical with tlii^ principle 
of values. And bringing it down to the nai'row circumfer- 
ence of the individual home, we hud it to l)e the same, iu)r 
financially alone, but mentally likewise, exercising a weighty 
influem-e on uuiny events occurring continually all around us. 
How often do we see tlie homestead and widi' extended 
possession of a family sold t(» strangers as soon as vacated by 
the death of the well meaning, busy jiarents, for no better 
reason than that it offers no true attraction to the tastes of 
the children, who may have l)een at college, and Avhen once in 
possession of a good modern education, not calculated for the 
agricultural classes, drift restlessly to the \vhirl[)ool of society 
in the cities ! The old estate is wound uj), the proceeds are 
divided amongst the heirs, some of wliom are benefitted l)v 
the part they get, while others are assisted in the down grade 
of their course, and all owing to a false standard of utility at 
home and in education, obstinately maintained by eidightened 
and popular instruction. 

The principle of ti-ue attraction of the home alfects the 
life blood of the rural masses more than many are willing to 
admit, wdio seek all salvation only in the general volume of 
intelligence and literature afloat over our heads. Mental and 
material attraction of the home, is the only safeguai'd of the 



RUKAL TASTE. '.Vo 

rural masses, it generates contentment, stability of society, 
and benefits tbe state and cliurcb alike. How many jealous 
glances are cast over otlier people's lauds and houses with a 
silent wish that a better use might have been made of •'grand- 
father's farm'', or of "our old home". How many rush to tlu^ 
city to return again to the country, to repent at leisure. False 
utility I How many mistakes are made by mortals in its behalf ! 
How" many homes are left untouched by the refining hand of 
art merely from the false economy of one generation, and ai'e 
lost thereby to the next. How justly does the Aj)ostle In-and 
it as the root of all evils I 



REFLECTIOX.S. 



"We live to enjoy happiness ; and the happiness of living 
necessarily depends very much upon what degree of con- 
venience, comfort and enjoyment the })lace where we live will 
alford. 

"The human mind is dependent upon S()methi)ig external 
lo itself for its entire nourishment, culture and expansion. 
External natui-e impresses its images, and everything with 
which we are surrounded and associated has its inodifying in- 
lluence. Then let him who would cultivate a love of home 
contentment and the finer sensibilities, in his own mind, ami 
more especially in the minds of his children, study to make 
a phice jjleasing and deligldful to tJie .senses. 

"As fine strains of music greet the ear and tranquil ize tlie 
mind, so, also, pleasing objects meet the sight and im})art a 
more happy and abiding influence. Then, how important 
tliat the scenery and objects that are almost continually before 
our sight should be such as most delight our senses. 

•'With the individual that has been reared in a pleasant 
home — in a place surrounded by interesting scenery in the 



34 KUllAL TASTE. 

reminiscence of tliat cliildliood, the fondest assocititions of 
memory will ever cling around 'the old liomestetid/ and, with 
true emotion, he may sing 

"How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood.'" 

"From earth, lessons of love, of gentleness, and of purity 
are given, in their silent language, by the majestic trees, by 
the humble shrubs, and by those children of beauty, the 
flowers of the held, ad( nad with every lovely tint of color 
that sunlight can paint on their petals, and looking uj) with 
their bright confiding eyes to Heaven for those influences on 
which their lives and growth de])end. 

"From the air comes forth in the joyous notes of the beau- 
tiful and ever cheerful birds, songs of praise and thanksgiving 
to their Maker, which in strains of melody give lessons to the 
soul, teaching it to soar upwards, like them toAvard the skies, 
in its aspirations for higher knowledge and brighter lights. 

"From the waters, whether calm and placid in their quiet 
beauty, or leaping and dancing amjong their rocky mates, with 
sportive, cheerful voices, ascend lessons of instruction to the 
docile heart and vigilant understaiuling ; while from the 
Heavens above, the many changing clouds rolling across the 
deep blue above them by day. and by night the bright-eyed 
stars looking down from above in silent watchfidness of 
the deeds done in the hours due to rest, warn and instruct, 
enlighten and direct the erring, the lost wanderer among the 
dangerous wilds of infidelity and skejoticism, and exhort him 
to look up on high for his guides. Nature's teachers are never 
wearied, never discouraged. 13y incessant, though gentle 
operations, they change the rocks of the heart to fertde soil, 
in which the seeds they sow will grow up and flourish, yielding 
blossoms of hope and fruits of righteousness," 



Part Second, 



ATTERS eP 0RT. 



THE ART OF DESIGN. 



Eiicli article subservient to the necessities of life, if deco- 
ruted by the hand of Art, is made ornamental as well as 
useful. All fabrics of human skill display in consequence 
the principle of design, which nudce up the taste of the 
people. The artists Avho originate tiie designs are. as has liceii 
shown, the leaders of taste and of fashion. 

The endless variety of design consists of three distinct 
forms, or principles expressed. It is made up of (1) Na,tural 
lines copied from animals and i)lants ; (2) Of nuithenuitical 
lines, straight lines, circles, or segments of these which in 
their combination makeup the curved lines ; (3) Of a combi- 
nation of natural and mathematical lines. Examining the 
pattern of any fabric, we recognize at once tlie principle 
under which it has been designed. The carpet or the wall 
paper of our room is either a representation of leaves, Howers, 
birds or any other natural o])ject, or is made up of straight 
and curved lines representing stripes, columns, squares or any 
other imaginal)le forin com})os(_'d of such matliematical lines; 
or it is a compound of sqiiares or circles, into which leaves or 
flowers are tastefully interwoven. The beauty of the carpet 
or the wall paj)er depends, according to the rules of taste, on 
the correctness of the lines, and on the association of the 
same. We display our own taste by a judicious selection made 
in the variety of patterns from which we nmke a choice. 

The selection of lines to be employed in the design of a 
certain piece of ground, should therefore be made in accord- 
ance with these established principles of design, which 
<?veryl)ody takes as a matter of course, though many never 
take the trouble to analyze the principle of art involved in this 
"^ 'matter of course." For this reason the design of grounds is 
quite often swayed by the merest fancy, and it is just here that 
we see the great difference of taste displayed in the interior 
and the exterior of the house, prfxlucing that painful differ- 



38 KURAL TASTE. 

ence in the aspects of the country, wlien compared with those' 
of the city and its surroundings, of whicli mention has been 
made on a former page. 

The first question to be asked is, therefore, shall the ground 
be like a similar piece of ground in nature? Shall it be 
designed with natural lines, or shall it be, unlike nature, de- 
signed by the adoption of mathematical lines ? In other 
words, shall it be laid out in straight Avalks and circles, around 
which the trees, shrubs and flowers are })lanted in regular 
mathematical lines? 



ORNAMENTAL GARDENING AS AN ART OF 
DESIGN. 



The mathematical idea of design prevailed from time im- 
memorial to the l»eginning of this century. It is, therefore, 
called the ancient, the geometri('al style of gardening. The 
natural idea of design was the inevitable offspring of art and 
advancing culture, it was born in consequence in that country 
which possessed those attril)utes of liunum nature in the 
highest degree, in England, and it is called the English style 
— the Landscape style — Landscape gardening. 

The ancient style developed the climax of its glory in 
France, the country of the greatest and most extravagant 
monarchs the world has produced. The famous gardens of 
Versailles, called into existence by Louis XIV. are its truest 
type, the style is therefore often called the French style of 
gardening. The mathematical idea produced grounds entirely 
unlike nature, it murdered the designing idea of nature, and 
replaced it by scenic features, purely the wild imagination of 
man. It tried to wipe out, as far as possible, all similarity to 
nature, hoping therel^y to distinguish the ground owned and 
frequented by the monarch and his noble band, from that 
seen constantly by the common people. Its eccentricities 
were directed against all natural forms of the ground and of 



RURAL TASTE. 39 

each bush or tree, which had to be subjugated to the demands 
of mathematics. Its scenery was one. not of Art, but of 
artificiality. Its designs were made however l)y Art. and 
could in consequence not be otlierwise than ornamental, in 
many cases highly so. 

Its mode of design is admired in our day as much as it ever 
was in the past, and in conse<{uence adopted by nniny in 
preference to the landscape style. When applied on an ex- 
tensive scale, it produces the stately avenues and majestic 
approaclies to commanding 1)uildings : when used in a smaller 
compass it gives us the neat and })leasing parterre of iiowers, 
so universally adopted in the front of elegant architectural 
structures. It is thus frequently combined with the natural 
style, and imparts to it scenic contrasts which no other me- 
dium could supply. It is, in its pro})er association with its 
opposite, therefore, where the improver of the grounds tinds 
the widest scope to display his rational correct taste. Yet 
in this association with natural objects all around, the greatest 
blunders against taste are frequently committed. The natural 
grace of a shady grove or lawn can be completely counteracted 
by the introduction of a straight or curved road or walk on 
both sides of Avhich trees or shrubs are planted like so many 
toys or sentinels. Evergreen trees trained so frequently in 
geometrical forms and so universally admired, not for their 
intrinsic beauty but for their oddity, may l)e in }>erfect 
harmony with a spot where all else is made by art. as in the 
immediate vicinity of the house or amidst the flower beds, 
but when scattered over the lawn where all is nature, they 
cease to be a fit factor of decoration : they become a nuisance, 
not in themselves, but to all around them. 

A rational choice of style of design must of necessity be 
made under a consideration of the nature of the ground, 
whether level, rolling or alu'uptly broken. Mathematical 
lines demand a mathematical conformation of the ground 
also. They are most suital)le on level ground, but if intro- 
duced amidst the natural undulations of the ground they are a 
contradiction of all around them, an absurdity in consequence. 
If selected for ground abruptly broken, they form the terrace, 
an ascent to which is made by the means of steps. The 



40 EUEAL TASTE. 

ground must thus be subjugated by artificial means to a 
matliematieal shape— often a very expensive operation. But 
when a choice is made, tlien it should consistently be carried 
out by lines in harmony with its principle. A thoughtless 
mixing up of lines and forms of either style creates the ma- 
jority of strange oddities met in many grounds. Xo one 
would think of mixing things up promiscuously in the interior 
of a house presided over by refined taste, but many lose this 
attribute Avhen planning the improvements of their grounds. 



HISTORIC AL. 



Tlie ancient style of gardening being inspired by man's seltish 
opposition to nature, hicked altogether the principle of variety, 

" Grove nods ti) grove, each alley has its brother 
And half the platform just reflects the other." 

and carried in consecjuence within itself the germ of its own 
destruction, whicli was inevitalily to come as soon as the ar- 
tistic ideas of a future day were able to substitute something 
better in its stead. 

To England tlie whole of Europe, and indeed the entire 
civilized world owed much of the intellectual culture it pos- 
sessed, and England, therefore, was destined to decide finally 
the unsolved problem of the style of gardening. The greater 
part of its whole area being owned by the crown and church 
and by the nobility, it was in reality the land of estates, and 
necessarily the land of gardeners. A certain i)ortion of each 
domain was the park and special pleasure ground of the lord 
and his family, in which large herds of cattle and of game 
were ke})t to furnish the princi})le of animation. In such a 
country the question of the design of ornamental grounds was 
a more important one than any where else on the globe. 

The principle of monotony, of everlasting sameness, dwel- 
ling within the prevailing style, was a yoke which had to be 
shaken ofi some day or other; and thus an English gardener 



RURAL TASTE. 41 

(his distinguished name was Bivaui), struck out a new path- 
way ill design, substituting curved lines, drawn in accordance 
with the shape of the ground, for straight avenues lieretofore 
universally prevailing. He i)lanted the trees in the same way, 
not in lines, but in imitation of the native groves. He copied 
nature. The novel idea pleased the noble lords, who saw in it 
the dawn of a new day in ornamental gardening. It was 
adopted in many neigh))oring estates, under the supervision of 
the ruling head gardener of the realm. It thus liappened 
that a great numljer of gardeners got the idea of Mr. Brown, 
but not his genius. They copied Mr. Brown, luit not nature, 
making a furious crusade against all straight lines and time- 
honored shady avenues of the innumerable estates of the 
kingdom. 

• After the deatli of tlie originator of the natural iik-a tliey 
invented the serpentine walk, so })opular to-day witli uiany in 
this country, entwining it uselessly amidst tlie meadows and 
widespread lawns of each domain. The nobility realizing the 
absurdity to which tlie new departure of design had run, had 
to command a halt in the confusion, and favored a- return to 
the old idea ratlier than a destruction of the leading features 
of the land. The gardeners and the lords were thus in a 
wrangle, in which the leading landscape painters and })oets of 
that day took active part, as is plainly manifested liy Pope's 
satirical allusion to the pert gardener of his day : 

•'Prim gravel walky. through which we winding go. 

In endless serpentines that nothing show. 

Till tired, I ask why this eternal rounds 

And the pert gardener says: ' Tis pleasure ground." " 

At this critical moment a middle man l;)etween the nobility 
und the ignorance of the gardeners appeared upon the stage. 
His vv-onderful sagacity of judgment, knowledge of art. and 
inborn genius infuses system into the chaos of confusion ami 
founds the natural idea on the basis of rational and artistic 
judgment. It is Humphrey Kepton, the originator of the 
term Landscape Gardening — a term unknown before his 
advent. A man of the highest intellectual culture, but not a 
gardener himself, the fraternity of the spade pronounces him 
a genuine imposter on their most gracious lords, and tried of 



42 RURAL TASTE. 

course to make his mission as unpleasant as only Englishmen 
can do if they try. The nobility and crown avail them- 
selves of his advice, the leading estates of the kingdom are 
remodeled and improved, and thus the ne\v-l)orn art of Land- 
scape Gardening is firmly established and outlined 1)y rati(»nal 
pi'inciples, clearly pronounced and fearlessly defended against 
all its opponents. Mr. Repton tells the gardeners that every 
thing they do in design, and outside of it likewise, must have 
a visibly good reason ; that every curve or line must demon- 
strate its own necessity ; that every purely useless feature of 
design is an aljsurdity ; that tiie miiul uiust be satisfied with 
all the eye beholds. No wonder tliey attempte<l to cry 
him down as an '•' aristocratic humlnig. " He tells the land- 
scape painters that a painting is a thing to l)e looked at. tlu- 
ground to be walked over and to be used ; that consequently 
there exists a wide difference between tlie art of painting and 
that of, gardening although the artistic conceptions and prin- 
ciples are the same in botli. 

The crowned heads of contiiUMital Eurojie send their special 
artists to England to study and to copy the new-l)orn art. wliich 
finds by this means universal adoption in every kingdom and 
petty princi2)ality of the continent. Each country adopts it 
in accordance with the peculiarities of its climate, and ju'cvail- 
ing ideas amongst its people. The further developnient of 
the art is thus a com})onnd of the artistic talents of all couji- 
tries, and is in nowise due solely to Great Britain. The gaiety 
of the style, when interwoven with the mathematical idea, and 
liberally decorated with flowers and devices of pleasant intri- 
cacy, we owe in great measure to the genius of the Fi-ench ; 
while Germany perfected the style chiefly in principles of 
artistic planting, thereby produceing the wonderful sylvan 
attractions which distinguish the parks and pleasure grounds 
of that country from those of any other, England included. 

T]ie art of Landscape GardeHiiuj Is a coinpoiind of art as 
generated t/y a studij of nature, and of correct jiulijinent in 
the association of artistic ideas ivith tlie demand of utility ; 
wlierehij tlie scenic features of the ground are lirought into fuJl 
hannonij with the requirements of the comfort and convoni- 



RURAL TASTE. 4:5' 

ence of the ground ; irlterehji the desU/ii of the (jround is 
adapted to the purposes for irliidi it is destined, Ite it the resi- 
dence of a family, the use of the pnlAic, the education of youth 
or the burial of the dead. 



STUDY OF NATURE. 



On this broiui basis the culture of mankind has been devel- 
oped. Civilization is the product of lessons learned from 
nature, and of application made of revelations appearing from 
time to time as ins})irations from on high, to minds specially 
commissioned to j)enetrate the mysteries of her economy. A 
desire, dictated by stern necessity, to comprehend the phe- 
nomena of surrounding nature, to which human existence 
was subjected was un(h:)ubtedly the first im})ulse of the awak- 
ening mind. Slow and wear}' indeed has been the process of 
evolution from darkness to the stadium of light in which 
mind was first enal)led to assume the control of nature, in so 
far at least as to turn her forces to the wants and amelioration 
of human life. Once independent of her proljlems and hith- 
erto mysterious ways, human intellect had an 0})en pathwa}^ 
on which to make those marvelous advances and discoveries 
which characterize this latest epoch of the history of mankind. 

The study of nature is pursued to-day as at any former 
period, in two distinct directions, the study of matter consti- 
tuting the material universe, and the study of form and 
combination of the elements of nature. The former we call 
science, the latter art. These are the fundamental pillars on 
which culture rests ; in which all rejoice and are blessed in 
the ratio in which their mental powers can assimilate nature, 
a faculty on which much of their mental happiness depends. 
Degrees of culture vary, therefore, in indefinitely the multi- 
tude of minds, and divide the masses into various distinct 
classes. The most numerous of these live solely in the 
material realm and use of nature, carina' but little foi' causes 



44 KL'KAL TASTE. 

founded either in art or in science, by the results and i)roducts 
of which all are unknowingly benefited in innumerable ways. 
One portion of the minority leans to science, the other to art. 
A combination of these distinct classes is the conglomeration 
of intellectual nature dwelling within mankind. The degree 
of culture possessed by the individual is readily recognized 
when measured by this universal standard. 

The study of nature is a research for the causes producing 
the endless variety of manifestations in the universe of nature. 
To trace the multitude of a})})arently contradictory facts to 
their soui'ce of hrst cause, to recognize therein the unity of 
cause, to fouiul a rational system of mitural laws and corres- 
ponding results, has ever been the effort of the foremost 
minds engaged in tlie tedious task of unraveling the m3-steries 
of sui'rounding nature. Tiie successful realization of this 
effort we call the natural science enlightening our age, whicii 
has dispersed the untold errors and superstitions of the past, 
and has landed us triumphantly in the harbor of enlighten- 
ment, in which we are securely moored, thanks to the efforts 
of many centuries of study of nature. 

The eternal law of cause and effect is universally conceded 
in every branch of natural science, and in its natural result, 
the plane of intellectual culture on which we stand. But 
<loes it hold true in the realm of form and combination ? In 
other words, can it l)e recognized in the study of art likewise ? 
Are there certain immutable fn-st causes of the beauties and 
attractions of scenic nature, which wlien comprehended by 
the iiujuiring mind will dis})el the almost universal delusion 
that all the unspeakable variety of scenery is the })roduct of 
accident, commonly named a freak or a happy humor of 
nature ? Tlie seeds of vegetation are drifted to and fro by 
natural forces — winds, waters, or by animals. The })resence 
of forests, be they composed of rugged pines or stately palms, 
is therefore fully accidental in one sense of the word, yet 
governed strictly by the laws of the economy of nature, con- 
ditioning their existence by climatic and many other local 
causes. But can we reduce the infinite diversity of combina- 
tion to certain comprehensible laws of association ? Can we 
anticipate and recognize the principle of creative wisdom with 



RUKAL TASTE. 45 

which the stu2iendous universe of natural variety is designed ? 
This is tlie funchunental problem of the study of nature in 
the artistic direction. Its successful solution will give us the 
key to the origiiuil garden of the Lord, nature's scenic heauty, 
in which we can inil)ilte ideas on wliich alone correct and 
rational taste in art and daily life can possibly be founded. 

To guide the reader over this interesting territory, and to 
suggest some practical points, on which to invite his special 
attention and inquiry, is the object of tlie following pages. 

A student accompanied l)y his teacher is supposed to start 
on a rambling tour to view the landscapes of our country, td 
stndy. rationally, the causes of their attraction as expressed by 
the term, Beauty (.)f Nature's Scenery. 



FIK8T JVRIN0IPLE8 OF ASSOCIATION, 



A section of the earth's surface, presented to the eye from 
a given point of oliservation, is called a landscape. Certain 
sections are seen in their jirimitive character as made l)y 
nature, showing no signs of interference by the hand of man. 
In others, the habitations of nuxn appear as interwoven between 
primitive nature, lending to the landscape an element of 
variety, of increased interest to the mnid, in consequence. 
The greater the number and proportions of the works of man^ 
the greater will be the contrast of nature and the nnmifesta- 
tion of the demands of hunum wants. Scenery is thus either 
primitive nature, natural in character, or nature combined 
with the signs of civilization, arfificial in character. 

Clearness of the Scope of Visiox. The greater the 
scope of vision i)resented from a given point, the greater will 
be the variety of objects seen ; the greater, therefore, is the 
interest to the mind. The more distinctly the outlines of 
objects are visible, the sharper will be the impression of what 
is really seen, the clearer will be the understanding of the 



40 RURAL TASTE. 

mind. Vice versa, the dimmer the outlines of objects, or 
the more intermixed they appear, tlie more indistinct will be 
the impression, the more the mind is left in doubt as to the 
real form and position of tlie oljjects, tlie less will be, there- 
fore, the gratification imparted by the vision. The principle 
of pleasure to the mind is, in consequence, the standard by 
which that of beauty is established. As pleasure to the mind 
depends on clearness of vision, so will the degree of beauty 
also depend on the same condition. Clearness, (listinctness, 
sharpness, is thus the foremost factor of beauty of attrac- 
tion. This principle, however, cannot exist unless objects 
are sufficiently far apart, separated from each other, to 
display distinctly the true character of their outlines. Proper 
sejj^iratio/i of objects is thus indispensable to scenic beauty. 

LiiiHT A XI) Shade. This principle is the effect of the 
cause of separation, light being the space between the 
objects, shade the color and form of the objects proper. We 
pronounce a heavily wooded landscape, dark and gloomy ; 
when wood and meadow are properly balanced we call it 
pleasant ; wlien devoid of woods, monotonous and dreary. 
Clearness of vision and balance of light and slnule produce 
the different moods of the mind either })leasant or otherwise. 
The most thoughtless ol)server establishes thus the standard 
of beauty, of attractiveness or re})ulsii)n to liis mind. Beaiity 
is therefore not as some believe, a mere fancy, but an effect 
produced l)y a certain cause. 

Elevation, or the height of l)ase on which objects stand, 
heightens the principle of separation inasmuch as it places 
the objects on different levels, by which the clearness of 
light and shade is greatly influenced ; not only as to shade 
produced by the objects proper, but also as to light or shade 
possessed by themselves, imparted to them by the relative 
position or height they occupy. Tlie objects standing on the 
highest elevations are seen in the light of the sky, which 
imparts to them a certain degree of light. Those standing 
on the lowest levels are seen in the light of a background or 
objects behind them which impart to them a certain degree 
of shade. Elevation increases, therefore, not only apparent 



KL'KAL TASTE. 47 

separation,, but also light and shade. We need not. therefore, 
wonder that the scenery of gronnd having great contrasts of 
elevation is the most impressive. 

The opposites in elevation are the inoiDitains and the 
plains. Their scenery is, in consequence an opposite — one to 
the other. That of the mountains having the boldest con- 
trasts of elevation, bears the most spirited type of beauty 
which we express by the word picftiresque. The elevations of 
the })lain are harmonious, variations only, connected witli 
each other by nature's line of undulation, its true line of 
beauty. The scenery produced In' this principle of uni- 
formity of height, bears the impression of grace and round- 
ness. It is called the t/nicef/il, the beautifid. The scenery 
of the middle ground between the two extremes must, 
therefore, possess the characteristic traits of beauty of either 
opposite — must be a combination of striking contrasts with 
harmonious graces. And viewing the endless variety of 
scenery created by this })i'inciple of compromise of extremes, 
by the descent of the mountain to the plain, and the restless 
ascent of the plain towards the mountain, we meet in reality 
with nature's sublimity of beauty and diversity of scenery ; 
we meet the endless chain of variation in lines of undulation 
the striking effects })roduced l»y sepdrafion, by elevafiox and 
by contrasts of lii/Iil and shade and in consequence by clear- 
ness of vision, or beauty. It is here that the study of nature 
can be most advantageously pursued : and placed on this 
ground of com])romise, we view tirst the scenery of the 
principle of elevation, the mountainous type and next the 
principle of the plain, with its graceful undulations. 

The Mouxtaixous Type — the Pictukesque. We take an 
imaginary elevated position, from which a wide extended view 
over a mountainous country is before us. The eye gazes in 
delight in all directions, and scans the multitude of sights, 
conveying instantaneously the impression to the mind. Almost 
unconsciously the preference is given to one certain direction 
of the vision which is pronounced the finest view, the finest 
landscape of the panorama. Why is the decision so speedily 
made ? Because in that one direction the eye has the greatt^st 



RURAL TASTE. 48 

scope of vision, the viU'iety of objects seen is therefore greatest 
also. Again the outlines of all ol)jects are seen clearest, the 
true characteristic of each is thus clearly revealed, and can in 
consequence be distinctly compared with that of its neighbors. 
A principle of variety is thus created which is fascinating to 
the mind. But let us more closely analyze the source of our 
pleasing emotions. Wh}^ is the scope of vision greatest ? 
Tlie answer is, because the principle of separation is most 
fully developed in that view. The relative position of all the 
leading factors of the view enables the eye to take them all in, 
and to realize the light and shade Avhich they produce. The 
sylvan masses of shade, placed on the various elevations of the 
ground stand out in bold relief, forming strong contrasts to 
each other. The valleys are resplendent with light which is in 
turn interrupted by the shades of the forest masses. The 
illumination of the landscape is, therefore perfect, the truest 
type of that charm which only a contrast of light and shade 
can impart. 

"We see by this the rational cause of the scenic effects, wliich 
in their combinations into a distinct landscape view, have 
called forth that degree of pleasure to the mind, which we 
wish to express by pronouncing the view the most beautiful of 
the Avhple panorama. We have the cause of the beauty of the 
landscape. Examining the landscapes seen in any other direc- 
tion of our point of observation, we realize which of the 
principles are accidentally missing to our point of vision. In 
one the forests may appear too near each other, obstructing 
the scope of vision ; the principle of separation is imperfectly 
represented. In another direction the outlines of the compo- 
nents of the landscapes may appear indistinct and intermixed, 
and thus the clearness of the view is lost. The grade of 
beauty will unconsciously be established for every view exam- 
ined, in accordance with the harmony of the point of vision 
and the landscajie. 

The relative position and height of objects to the eye, con- 
ditions the presence or absence of the principles which convey 
the impression of beauty to the mind. The scenic effects of 
any section of country depend therefore on the selection of 
the point of observation from which they are viewed. A point 



RURAL TASTE. 49 

selected in harmony with the peculiarities of the contour of 
the ground and position of masses of forest trees, will display 
the landscape in its greatest possible attractiveness. 

The CoNFORiiATiON OF THE Grouxd is in itself the foun- 
dation of the landscape, imparting to it the characteristic 
traits discussed under the heading of elevation. The boldest 
elevations and their opposites, the deepest valleys, make up 
the true type of the scene. The variety of contour lines of 
the hill-sides and the valleys constitutes next to the boldest 
contrasts, the beauty of the scenery. In many instances the 
ascent to higher levels is interrupted by steep declivities of 
rocks but sparingly decorated by vegetation. The principle 
of separation forms the valleys through which the views to 
more distant parts is nuide possible. Valleys running in line 
or in liarmony with our })oint of vision are the factors of 
greatest beauty to the view ; but obstructions when running 
in an opposite direction. They thus become the marring 
features of the landscape, as seen from an unfavorable point 
of view. Distances between the various elevations — the prin- 
ciple of light — when narrow and contracted between the 
higher mountains, form the dark and gloomy valleys and 
gorges, so characteristic of the boldest types of mountain 
scenery. When wide and spacious they form the 2:)leasant. 
smiling valleys. 

The Outlixes. The imperative necessity of clearness of 
outline has been discussed above, when it was said that the 
degree of separation conditions, in great measure, the sharp- 
ness of outlines. To this must be added in this connection 
the principle of relative distance to the point of vision. Each 
scene has in this respect a foreground, namely, ol)jects nearest 
to the eye, and a background made up of objects furthest 
removed from the eye. In consequence there is a middle 
ground between the two extremes. In accordance with the 
laws of vision the foreground will be seen in its real size, that 
is, its height and width, and in the strongest or darkest 
light. The further the objects of the middle ground are 
removed from the eye, the more will their size and their light 
diminish, until the objects furthest off, making the back- 



50 RURAL TASTE. 

ground, appear only in dim outlines and in the weakest liglit, 
vanishing thus from sight and disa])})earing in the sky. The 
landscape receives from this cause its peculiar charm of color, 
of illumination, changing in accordance with the position of 
the sun at the different hours of the day. 

Objects on the highest levels of the grouiul, and those 
furthest distant from the eye, are seen in the light of the sky; 
their outlines are the true sky lines, which strongly contrasted 
by the light of heaven, become thus the most distinct, the 
characteristic outlines of the landsca})e. The outlines of all 
objects on the lowest levels, or of a sinaller size, are seen as 
in front of other objects; they have, therefore, a darker light, 
and are not so distinct as lines contrasted by the sky. The 
scene has thus two sets, or ty2)es of outlines, on the distinct- 
ness and contrast of whose light the scene dejicnds in great 
measure for its full share of beauty. "Whatever has been said 
above on the principle of clearness, may be considered a 
natural continuation or further explanation of this subject. 

8hadk. Trees, collectively forests, are the material factors 
of beauty and decoration of the earth's surface, without which 
this terrestrial ball would be a dreary desert, unfit for human 
habitation. We consider the subject from four different 
points of view. First, the association of trees with each 
other. Secondly, their association with scenery at large, or 
their distribution. Third, their association with the dilferent 
elevations of the ground. Fourth, effects produced by their 
association. 

1. Association, proximity to each other, exercises an all-gov- 
erning influence on the development of trees, and consequently 
also on the sylvan elfects which trees produce. Trees growing 
singly and unobstructed by others develo]) their true char- 
acter of habit and proportions. As fully developed specimens 
of their kind, we admire them ; as the crowning triumphs of 
the vegetable world, majestic trees are factors of decoration 
which no other product of nature can replace'; thoy are the 
centers of attraction and beauty of every scene of nature. 

When growing in masses the habit of the individual is mate- 
rially changed. The outside ones will develop the normal 



Rl'llAL TASTE. 51 

type of their kind, as far as they are not obstructed l\y their 
neighbors, and thus the outlines of boughs and foliage encir- 
cling the circumference of a mass of trees is formed, which 
in reality is the true priiu'iple of shade and decoration in the 
landscape. But viewing tlie trees of the interior of the mass, 
wc tind their normal type materially altered, for the simple 
reason that they can grow oidy in height, but not in circum- 
ference. The stems are thus continually elongated, drawn up, 
bv which natural })r();'ess the tall straight trunks, the valuable 
timbers of the industries are produced. Tiie sylvan beauty of 
each tree is therefore contined to the top, all the rest is a bare 
trunk, or a combination of bare branches. The interior of a 
mass of trees is thus the very opposite to its outer leafy, 
graceful circumference, which latter is tlie true jnnnciple of 
decorative beauty in scenery, a feature often overlooked when 
works of improvement are discussed. Any one doul)tiiig the 
force of this difference in this connection can readily be con- 
vinced l)y comparing the scenic aspect of a })iece of woodland 
nevei' disturbed by the axe, with one into which a clearing has 
l)eeii made. The first is a mass of graceful foliage, the (jvitv- 
iiu: princii>h' of scenic decoi'ation, the other i^ a uiixture of 
foli<^ge and Ijare stems, the decorative character of which is 
more or less destroyed. Any part of the country therefore 
whicli is undergoing a change from primitive nature to a state 
of culture, loses its scenic beauty in the ratio in which the 
outer margins of the forest lands are disturbed. The scenery 
developed by the remnants of the forest, namely, by bare 
trees, is thus entirely d liferent from the original type of beauty. 
The scattere<l, renniining trees, though vahnihle as they may 
be, are thus not necessarily factors of beauty, simply because 
thev are trees which give a certain degree of shade. They are 
(juite often the very o})posite of decoration, as will l)e discussed 
hereafter. 

Allusion is here nnide to this point in this connection to 
show the princi})le of decoration iuiparted to any scene l)y the 
foliage masses of the trees, and the absence of this principle 
when the bare trunks of trees are chieiiy seen. 

Tin-: Clump. A small numljer of trees, sprung up in close 



52 KURAL TASTE, 

proximitv to each other, produces a mass of boughs and foliage 
which is identical in decoration with the single fully developed 
tree ; it is a giant tree with a number of trunks. 

The (tROVE. This type of association needs in reality no 
special definition, ;!S it is the prevailing factor of decoration 
all over our country. It is a num1).'r of trees growing near 
each other, forming a canopy of leafy Iwughs overhead. The 
ground is clear of shrubs and brush, the stems of the trees 
are clean, and thus an unobstructed view to all around is 
enjoyed beneath this sylvan tem2)le. In natural scenery it is 
a type of decoration which characterizes the sylvan beauty of 
many places. 

The Thicket is any mass of trees, shrubs, and spreading- 
vines, sprung up anywhere and growing as a type of native 
liberty. Some of the trees, favored by special causes, assume 
the lead in growth and develo}) their tops above all the rest. 
They become tlie leaders, leaving all else around as under- 
growth, wliicli covers the ground with the darkest shade and 
presents an imjienetrable mass of foliage to the eye. Trans- 
ferring this type on a larger scale, we have 

The Forest, the interior of which is a mass of trees, 
beneatli which the underg-rowth is found as far as light and 
air will permit its presence. When this is expelled by the 
timber, then the interior is a monotonous mass of trunks, 
shaded by a uniform volume of foliage overhead. Single 
trees, clumps, groves, thickets and forests are nature's sylvan 
alphabet, with which the volume of infinite scenic beauty is 
written. These letters are well worthy the attention of the 
student of nature's language. 

2. Trees in Regard to Their Associatiox with 
Scenery at large. Returning to the point of observation 
from which we have viewed the panorama of the mountains, 
we see at once that forests, groves and thickets are truly the 
characteristic features of the beauty of the landscape. Their 
distribution creates all that we call the expressive charm of 
the scenery ; it gives the striking contrasts of light and shade. 
It is the true decoration of the landscape. A disprojiortioned 



RURAL TASTE. 53 

touch of shade, in other words preponderance of forest, will 
make the scenery dark and oloomy. A lack of shade will 
make it monotonous aiul dreary. When uniformily distrib- 
uted everywhere tlie scene will lack expression, will be 
unmeaning. The most striking sylvan etfeets are due to a 
union of the several types of association. The uiighty forest 
is thus surrounded by the ever varied outline of the thicket, 
which is in turn associated with groves and single clumps. 
Each mass of shade has its peculiar sylvan outline, which is 
an important line or clement of Lhe whole, a factor of variety 
and Ijcauty. 

3. The Forests in Regard to Their Associatiox with 
THE Different Elevatioxs of the Grol'xd. Gazing over 
the forest-covered mountain chains and charming hillsides we 
realize the fulness of their mission as the element of decora- 
tion. What would this mountain scenery be without the 
verdure and the shade of forest? How utterly dreary and 
repulsive to the mind I \Vi})e off the forest Ijeauty from 
untold steep elevation:^ of tlie ground, and where Avould the 
attraction of the landscape be? xVnd look at the graceful 
forests and thickets of the valleys. Are they not also indis- 
pensable to the harnumious character of tlie scene? How 
very ditfereirt they are from the sylvan ty^ies of the mountain 
sides and summits I How round and graceful are their 
outlines when com})ared with those of the pines and oaks on 
the mountain side. 

While gazing musingly over the widespread panorauui, and 
wondering at the playful leaps and ri})ples of the mountain 
stream, the student of miture asks silently the question : Is 
scenic beauty the only cause for which the Creator has 
designed these majestic forests? Are they not useful as well 
as ornamental ; indispensal)ly necessary in the economy of 
nature, not merely for the supply of liunum wants, which 
they have faithfully served for a century or more ; but rather 
as the reservoir of nature's supply of water, by which the 
charming stream below is constantly supplied and kept in 
perpetual motion, and a medium of interchange of moisture 
between the earth and the surrounding atmosj)here ? Do they 



54 KURAL TASTE. 

not exercise a powerful influence on the climate and the fruit- 
fulness, of the land, and thereby on the welfare of the nation ? 
Are these forests not really wortli preserving with more jeal- 
ous care than a race of enlightened agriculturists and greedy 
speculators have thus far bestowed upon their existence ? Is 
forestrij a liranch of knowledge worthy of the attention of 
this intelligent and highly educated nation ? Or is it a mere 
fancy of enthusiastic liorticulturists ? 

4, What Are the Effects PKOincED by the Associ- 
ation OF Trees, both with each other and with the charming 
scenery of the laud ? The simple answer to this question is 
endless variety. But what is variety ? Does it consist of 
accidental intermixture of many kinds of trees and bushes, 
happening to grow on these mountain sides and in the verdant 
valleys before our eyes ? Some say it does. Suppose they are 
right. What would be tlie rational result of tlieir doctrine? 
In the twinkling of the eye the sylvan beauty of the landscape, 
due to the endless variety, would be an accidental mixture of 
everything that grows anywhere and everywhere, ^'ariety 
would be destroyed by excess of variety, which is confusion. 
Nature's variety must, therefore, be something beyond mere 
accidental mixture. Examine the sylvan types of each 
locality of the landscape. Here are the forests made up of 
oaks, chestnuts, beech, etc. There is an isolated elevation 
covered with pine, and down in the valley are the graceful, 
drooping willows, the elms and the wide spreading maples. 
Here is a variety made up of masses, harmonious in tliem- 
selves and in harmony with the locations in which they grow, 
and with their peculiar soil. They are harmonious in principle, 
but form a bold contrast to other masses ; harmonious in 
themselves likewise, yet entirely different from otlier forms. 
This gives us the principle of variety made by an association 
of masses harmonious, and in contrast with each other. This 
may be called general, rough-hewn variety. But M'hat is 
detailed variety, the all-prevailing principle of sylvan Ijcauty ? 
Examine the manner in which the different opposites in form 
— say the oak and the pine — meet. Can any line of demark- 
ation between the two forms be seen? No ; they mingle. 



RURAL TASTE. 55 

dovetail into each other, .slightly and slyly here, more boldly 
and deeply there. Tlie middle ground between the two 
opposites becomes thus the basis of tiie most intricate. l)ut 
systematic variety nevertiieless. 

Now let us try the pi'ineiple wiili what we see down in the 
lowlands along the stream, where elms, sycamores and uiaples 
prevail. Are the groves a mere mixture of these three kinds 
of trees ? A few majestic trees form here a group of the type 
of the noble elm, there of the upright sycamore, and close l)y 
of the graceful maple. The grove is thus made up of tlie 
three prevailing kinds, distinctly uiiited into contrasted sylvan 
types. Its variety is not an intermixture, but a harnu)nious 
union. The endless diversity of circumstances under which 
certain masses of similar trees meet with each other, and 
mingle on their extremities with opposite forms, creates the 
indescribable variety of sylvan combinations which make tiie 
true beauty of the landscape. 

We have inquired into the cause, the effect of which is 
infinite variety. It is conclusively revealed by the above 
analysis of nature's sylvan combinations. Variety, which 
may appropriately be called nature's taste, is not the product 
of mere accident, but is produced by harmony of parts and 
contrasts in association. It is evident that this principle must 
be the fantlamental basis of correct taste in every department 
of life, but more especially of the two arts devoted solely to 
tiie imitation of nature's scenery, the art of landscape paint- 
ing and the art of landsca])e gardening. 

Light — the meadow, or ;dl spaces between the forest 
masses. The distril)ution of the latter creates the former. 
The principle involved has been discussed above, and lU'ed not 
here be repeated. But one point is worthy of mention in this 
connection: The peculiar, striking contrasts of light and sliade 
of the sylvan margins of the forest masses are due to deep 
recesses of light, of parts of the meadow, extending into the 
interior of the area covered by shade. Tiiis makes the out- 
lines of the sylvan masses, as well as the open spaces between 
the latter, the very opposite of a mathematically curved line. 
The endless diversity of form seen in the perspective of the 



o6 RVRAL TASTE. 

forest, is distinctly expressed and outlined on the ground. It 
is the peculiar charm of nature's sylvan works. 

Water is justly called the life of scenery. It is the prin- 
ciple of animation for two reasons. (1) Because of the real 
animation both of sound and motion. (2) Because of con- 
trast of color produced with the verdure of the landscajie. 
The laws of gravity settle water in tlie lowest level of the 
ground. They thus produce the perpetual motion, by which 
this element works out its obedience to the dictates of nature, 
drifting restlessly and irresistibly toward its point of destina- 
tion. The murmuring brook and the majestic n\oi\ the 
dripping waterfall and the awe-inspiring cataract, owe all 
their charms to tliis fundamental law of nature. The move- 
ment of the waves, be it a gentle play or a roaring commotion, 
is but a token of o])edience to that same all-governing cause. 
AVater im})arts to the landsca})e a never-ceasing source of 
animation, which no other factor of attraction can replace 
Avhen missing. But aside from real life iminirted by water to 
the inanimate landscape, the charming contrast of its blue 
color, created amitlst the verdure of the landscape by the water 
courses of the valleys, imparts an insi)iration, not nierelv to the 
scenery, but more powerful still to the mind. AVipe out the 
silver thread of the rivers, winding their meandering courses 
throughout this laud, and substitute tlic l)lue waters of our 
likes by a green i)i'airie. and where would the boasted glory of 
its hindscapes be ? It would have departed to return no more. 
The country would be green indeed in sad reality. 

A landscape, the foreground of the ocean or the lake, has 
therefore a charm unknown to any other type of nature's 
scenery. Tiie scenery of the river can for the same reason 
not be equaled by any othei'. devoid of the inspiration produced 
by flowing water. 

The awe-inspiring gorge or inlet into the wondei-s of the 
sublimest scenery of the mountains, is desolate and lonesome, 
if not enlivened by the dashing water current, leaping madly 
from ledge to ledge, and foaming in rocky bed. The 
verdant dress of the earth, made up l)y wood and meadow, is 
made more charming to the mind if enlivened ami diversified 
bv the lovelv blue lines of t.u water. 



KURAL TASTE. 57 

Rocks are an important component of pictnresqne scenery. 
They are the emlems of stability, of eternal strengtli ; the 
trne fonndation on which the glorious superstructure of 
nature's scenery rests. Inspired by this sentiment, we gaze at 
the stony cliffs and the natural walls, arising from the low- 
lands in sublime beauty, and recognize in them the tirm 
supports of the higher levels. But viewing other scenes in 
which rocks play likewise an important part, the principle of 
strength is shifted into ;ui op})osite direction. Rocks cease 
to be the eml;)lem of strength and stalnlity when lying before 
us in fragments, piled up in sublime confusion. In this con- 
dition they point to a force of nature which has upheaved and 
rent asunder the seemingly strongest material of construction, 
scattering it like cliaft' over immense extents of the earth's 
surface. When seen in this connection, rocks are the eloquent 
evidences of the irresistilile forces of nature. 

Whenever rocks appear in scenery, the rational cause of their 
presence is visible also. In their association with trees and 
water they form the loveliest tyiies of the picturesque scenei-y 
which would be dull and unnuianing if the gi'een sward of 
the ground would substitute their rugged and fascinating 
forms. In mountain scenery they are in many cases the lead- 
ing, all-prevailing feature to which all else seems but inci- 
dental and unimportant. The sylvan decoration of such 
scenes is but sparingly ai)i)lied, and by its rugged types it 
bears the mark of scarcity of i)lant food and rigor of atmos- 
phere, in accordance with tlic altitude of position. In such 
associations rocks are the ])rinciple of majestic grandeur, 
to which all other features 1k)\v in meek submission. Where- 
ever met in any combination of picturesque scenery, they 
form the most natural wild part thereof, denoting the princi- 
ple of retired solitude, l»ut seldom touched l:)y the tread of 
human feet. AYhen associated witli the habitations and 
industries of man, the natural charm of this type is speedily 
lost, so long at least as is inhal)ited by the quarrier. 

The C4RACEFUL. The mountains have been formed by 
nature's wildest forces, by volcanic actions. Their scenery is 
therefore sublimely picturesque, the paradise of the artist and 
of the lover of the most exciting scenes in nature. The level 



58 KURAL TASTE. 

land, on the contrary, is the product of a process of deposit, 
of gradual accumulation of the elements which make up the 
fertile soil, and is in consequence most suljservient to the wants 
of human life. Its scenery is thus the type of graceful beauty, 
of flowing, undulating lines, of fullness and roundness of sylvan 
features, of human ease, and productive i)lenty, and of invita- 
tion to all mankind to come and enjoy the beauties of nature. 
It is useless to point here especially to the great agricultural 
states of our counti^', which lie in the most fertile plain of 
this globe. The point of utility is sufficiently understood to 
satisfy everybody that the scenery of the plain is the paradise 
of the agricultural masses of this nation. 

The Scexeky of the Plaix. The level and undulating 
portions of this continent express distinctly the princij)le of 
light and shade. On this basis we have two separate divisions. 
One part of it is forest-covered, the other is a treeless i)lain. 
a prairie. 

The forest-covered portion was fii\st invaded by the march 
of civilization, which has transformed the primeval forest 
into scenes of agriculture and of industry, eloquently expressed 
by the aspects of our middle states. The treeless prairie, 
extending over other states and territories has likewise been 
subjugated to agriculture, and has already developed an 
empire of production, by which its future history can be 
correctly guessed. The industry of the husbandman has to 
some extent supplied the pressing \vants of shade and protec- 
tion of his homestead, and thus the monotonous scenic aspects 
of the treeless prairie have been revolutionized and wonder- 
fully improved, at least in some localities. 

The neutral ground on which two extremes must meet is in 
almost every case a base of compromise, of which the eccen- 
tricities of either opposite must yield, in order to create 
something new, a compound of only the best of each extreme. 
To this rational principle of compromise we owe not only all 
that we possess in the line of common sense, but also much 
of the endless variety of scenery. The ground of interchange 
between opposites in form and color produces all vari(,4y in 
nature's scenery, and art operates in consequence princi})ally on 
this basis. The shady forest meets thus the sunnv prairie. 



RURAL TASTE, 59 

and with what result? Tlie answer, is a new type of scenery. 
The solid ranks of the trees are broken ; they open here and 
there to admit the shining light of the prairie. The forest 
throws out its avant-gardes, detached masses of trees, as 
groves or clumps and thickets across its own line into the 
prairie. The change is magical ; the extremes of light and 
shade are harmoniously blended and intermingled ijito each 
other and variety is thus created. The scenic effects })roduced 
on this meeting ground of light and shade, occurring of 
necessity only where forests appear on the prairie, in most 
instances in connection with the water courses, exercises two 
distinct impressions aiid attractions to the mind. They are a 
pleasant change from sunshine iiito welcome shade, a sensual 
pleasure ; yet, nevertheless, a mental attraction also produced 
by the natural simplicity of the scene, made up solely of grass 
and trees, associated perhaps with flowing water, yet anima- 
ted by inexpressible diversity of contrasts in contour lines 
and sylvan pictures — the truest type of nature's design of 
lawn and meadow. 

The sylvan types of vegetation prevailing in the different 
sections of the land, have of necessity a weighty influence on 
the scenic variety of each locality. The greater the number 
of different trees and shrubs growing in a locality, the greater 
will be the diversity of the sylvan groupings, and the smaller 
their numl)er, the more uniform and harmonious will be the 
character of the latter. There is in consequence a wide 
difference in the scenic character of the sections where only 
the ordinary deciduous kinds of trees prevail, Avhen compared 
with those where both deciduous and evergreen trees are at 
home. The prairies of Illinois and Missouri can thus not be 
expected to represent the same degree of scenic beauty as 
those of Minnesota and Wisconsin, where coniferous trees 
are met in many localities. The two opposites in type and 
color, the deciduous and tlie evergreen must naturally yield 
contrasts 'and a degree of variety which cannot be expected 
from either form alone. 

The plain is either level or undulating. This difference in 
the surface, conditions the relative degree of scenic beauty, to 
say nothing of the other agricultural differences corresponding 



60 RURAL TASTE. 

thereto. A level surface has of necessity only the minimum 
of scenic attraction. Variation or undulation of surface is 
indispensable to the principle of -sariety, and therefore of 
beauty. If we .take an elevated j^osition on a rolling prairie 
and view attentively the endless variety of nature's line of 
beauty, we have a volume of instruction ]>efore our eyes, the 
equal of which can noAvhere else in nature be found and 
enjoyed, a sight which should revive and strengthen the 
principle of ))eauty in every soul. This graceful line of 
undulation which smooths all inequalities of the ground is 
seen throughout all material nature. We have admired it on 
every step of our rambles over the mountainous terrain ; we 
have it before our eyes here on the endless j^hiin. It is the 
true inspiration of every brancli of art, the fundamental 
principle of all design. But does it stop aliruptly at the outer 
edge of material nature? Has it no continuation, no parallel 
in moral nature? 

"Though I si)eak with the tongues of men and of angels, ami 
have not charity. I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling 
cymbal." 



EEXrRK 



The student of nature returns at last from his laisticating 
tour, invigorated in mind and l)ody. His friends and neigh- 
bors wish of course to know what he has seen and learned, 
and thus an argument on scenery begins. Tlie student con- 
tends — 

1. Any favora1)Ie impression made ujiou us by an ol)ject, 
or by a combination of such, depends entirely on the clearness 
of the outlines. Wlien these are indistinct and confused the 
impression will he unfavorahle and cannot be called l)eautiful. 

2. Distinctness of outlines cannot exist unless objects are 
far enough apart to be distinctly seen. 



RURAL TASTE. 



Gl 




CONDITIIINED 
BY 

Relative 
PROPORTION 

IN 

JIMRIETY 

Produced 



REl-ATlVi; 

Separ- 

TION OF 

Object*. 



HARMONY 

AND 

CONTRAST 

IN- 
FORM 

AND 

COLOR. 



CLEARNEfSS Or OUTLINE. 



DISTINCTNESS OP VISION. 



Balance 

OP 
LlC4HT AND 

Shade. 



Relative 1 
Elevation 

OF I 

Ob.IECT*. ' 



NATURE'S SPONTANEOUS PRODUCTION. 



^2 RURAL TASTE. 

3. Distance of objects from the eye, and height of liase on 
which tliey stand, liave much influence on the clearness of 
their outlines, on their size and color. 

4. The color of objects ^jrodnces shade, the space between 
them is the light. There is in consequence a balance — a pro- 
portion of light and shade which makes up the distinctness of 
the impression, which gives tlie character to the vision. 

5. The character of tlie landscape depends not only on 
balance of light and shade. Init also on the manner in whicli 
trees are united witli each otiiev. foi-ming masses of various 
dimensions and outlines. 

6. Some trees resemble each other very closely in foi-m and 
color, while others display great contrasts when c()m})ared. 

T. A landscape where all trees look alike, has no variety; 
but one made up of contrasting types, is attractive to the 
mind in jnvtportion to the degree of its variety. 

8. Variety is produced not mei-ely l)y different forms of 
trees, but also by the peculiar manner in wliich they are asso- 
ciated. 

!). The surface of the ground, its smoothness, its lines of 
undulation ami the degree of its verdure impart to the land- 
sca]ie its charms of attraction. 

10. AVati'v flows down hill, iiiid makes on the way all the 
noise and animation i)ossibk'. When settled in the lowest 
ground iu a placid l)()dy. or when gently flowing as a stream, 
it is the greatest factor of atfi'actiou. of the l)eauty of the 
scene. 

11. Rocks are not met with anywhere and every wliere, but 
only in certain places, in which the cause of their })resence is 
plainly visil)le. 

12. (xround. trees, grass, water, rocks, are the sim})le let- 
ters of nature's alphabet. They are the ty])es of two distinct 
languages spoken by the human family. Science and industry 
are one ; communion with scenic nature exj)ressed by art is the 
other. A coml)ination of both is tlic principle of the culture 
of our day. 

Mind deals with material nature; it adapts its element to 



KLUAL TASTE. 68 

the supply of human wants. The soul — the ott'spring of the 
Creator's own breath of life — communes with nature ; it 
analyzes her elements of beauty aiul entwines them into the 
paths of material life. We study nature materially in science 
and in the industries sul)servient to the demands of life ; 
mentally in its relation to the designs of the Creator. Tlie 
study of matter produces scientific, utilitarian man ; the 
study of the comlu'nation of nuitter into issthelic form produces 
artistic man. Both studies, judiciously combined in educa- 
tion produce nature's nobleman — intelligent, refined ;tsthetic 
man. 



STUDY IX AKT. 



The exalted, nuijestic scenery of the mountains has, us wc 
have seen, its many lessons to the student of nature and of 
art, but being on so grand a scale, the latter is ([uite often at 
a loss to know how to approjiriate and to accommodate its fea- 
tures to the narrow limits of his canvas, and tluis the most 
practical part of the instruction escapes his observ.ition, and 
is lost amidst the general inspiration which the finest laiid- 
sca})es infuse into tlie mind. 

In studying the modest sylvan features and forms of prairie 
scenery the case is entirely diiferent. Tliis type of scenery 
may be called the simplest form of laiulscape ; yet still it is 
the most instructive example of miture's principle of design. 
Each section or part of it is a real, a natural sylvan scene in 
itself, and can in conscfiuence be readily comprehended and 
copied by the artist. Its careful study will initiate him into 
the secrets of designing nature as well as of designing art ; 
will teach him how to surr(»uiul his In^me with simjile, native, 
svlvan beauty — with grass and trees, artistically associated. 

While speaking of matters of rural taste in general on a 
former page, attentioit has been called to a medium of dissem- 
ination of correct rural taste. It has lieen said that many 



64 EURAL TASTE. 

country gentlemen from the rural districts return from a visit 
to the suburbs of the leading eastern cities with a new idea of 
improvement. Suppose a man from any of the prairie towns 
of the west returns home with a wish to improve his spacious 
home grounds in truly modern artistic style, such as he has 
admired on the Hudson or in the vicinity of Cincinnati. He 
begins to acquaint himself with the subject, by reading one or 
the other of the gracefully written books on landscape gar- 
dening. The American works on this subject are inspired by 
the standard works of Europe, written in English, French and 
German. They were written by the earliest and most ])romi- 
nent masters of the art and express clearly the fundamental 
principles of tlie study of nature and its applications in the 
art, to which we owe the parks and pleasure grounds, together 
with all the leading scenic improvements of both continents. 
Thus fairly initiated into the literature of the art, this western 
gentleman begins to judge the scenery he views abroad as well 
as at home, whether the product of luiture, or of art, from a 
more enlightened point of view than he did before, and closely 
examining the sylvan scenes of the western forests in their 
combination with the smiling prairie, he realizes the unity of 
principle expressed in the books and on the grounds near his 
home. He wonders whether the early European authors ever 
beheld these prairie scenes of America, and wonders still more 
at the circuitous route by which he had to obtain a knowledge 
of how to copy nature, how to imitate her design in the im- 
provement of his own home grounds. To any one, well versed 
in the literature of landscape gardening, and acquainted with 
the scenery of the leading works of art of Europe, the first 
sight of the scenery of the western and northwestern states of 
America is not merely a happy surprise and pleasure, but even 
more a full realization of the unity of cause and effect, be it 
foreshadowed by a Eurojoean author or visible in the sylvan 
scenes of this picturesque and beautiful country. 

Should any one ask the question if it would not be well to 
instruct the rising generation of these western states in a 
branch of art so closely linked to the interests of tlie people's 
homesteads, so intimately connected with the future improve- 



KKHAL TASTE. <J5 

meats of each locality, such uii iiKjuirer can safely l)e refeiTed 
to the parable of the mustard seed, in which he will find a 
ready answer to liis ijucstion. 

DiFFF:REX('E IX Art — PaIXTIX^ vs. (;rAR])ENIN(J. It has 

been said above that the art of landscape gardening is a com- 
pound of artistic ideas as generated by a study of nature with 
the demands of stern utility, wlierel)y the scenic aspects of 
any piece of ground is brought into rational harmony with the 
})urposes to whicli tlie ground is destined. Its object is there- 
fore a different one from that of the ait of landscape painting. 
The former designs the nuiterial ground, the latter the ideal 
pictui'e. Both arts are of necessity based on the same funda- 
mental principles governing the combination of scenery, both 
are possessed of a knowledge of how to judge and to select the 
elements of Ijeauty, and of how to unite them into harmonious 
combinations. Tliey are a unit i]i all considerations of artistic 
principles, but their opi)osite aim and purpose is manifest at 
the very tlireshold of their })ractical operation. 

The painter has one point of observation from which he 
copies a given scene of nature ; his picture is therefore leased 
solely on the one point of vision, and depends for its perfection 
on a harmonv of every particle of his work with this all-gov- 
erning point of (jl)servation. The landscape artist operating 
on the ground, on the otiier hand, has at least two ])oints of 
observation, sometimes even moi'e, from which his woi'k has to 
be viewed and from which it will i]i consequence be jmlged. 
These points are (1) a central point in the interior of tlie 
l)lace, which is in most cases the residence, in others, in 
spacious grounds, as i»arks or rural cemeteries, one or the other 
points of special interest, as a l)old elevation, or any other 
leading feature of the ground. {2) The entrance to the 
place, or any prominent point of the puljlic approach to the 
})lace ; from which the outside world will judge the character 
of the interior. Based on this fundamental ground of differ- 
ence between the two l)ranches of art, the ideas of tlie })ainter 
and those of the im})rover will in many instances widely 
disagree. Again, the painter delights in a picturesque, dis- 
tinctly contrasted foreground of his j)icture, the material of 



66 RURAL TASTE. 

which may be a wild thicket of brush and rugged trees or 
rocks, Avhich in the foreground of a house or near an entrance 
gate would simply be a nuisance. 

The difference in principles of both arts has been elaborately 
discussed and debated in the earliest days of the art of land- 
scape gardening, as seen in the writings of Humphrey Repton, 
the champion of improvement of the ground, and of Uvedale 
Price, the celebrated Englisli jiainter and writer, on art. 



STUDY IX LANDSCAPE GARDENING. 



The study of this snl)ject, if made in the same routine 
pursued in the study of nature, as discussed on the preceding 
pages, will be greatly facilitated. It has been demonstrated 
that clearness, distinctness, sharpness is the fundamental basis 
on which scenic beauty can oidy rest, without which it can 
simply not exist. It is evident that this principle is the 
foremost one likewise in art. Thus may be seen a lational 
cause of the absence of attractive beauty from many grounds 
on the improvement of which much ill-directed study and 
ill-expendetl money has been bestowed. Any mass of trees, 
shruljs and flowers, })lanted in accordance with the fanc}' of 
either the owner himself, or the jobbing gardener employed 
l)y him, cannot possiI)ly be anything but a collection of so 
much slirubbery ; 1)at not a sylvan scene resembling nature. 
It will be seen why even the simplest forms of improvement, 
made up of grass and trees, of distinct sylvan groups, and 
distinct lawns, are pronounced beautiful by every beholder, 
who naturally wonders at the simplicity, yet not less at the 
artistic beauty, unconscious often of the real cause of his 
admiration. As clearness of vision cannot exist without sep- 
aration of objects, it is obvious also that every available open 
space where a tree or bush might grow, cannot be filled up 
with such without destroying the fundamental requisite of 



lU'KAL TASTE. hi 

u})})ear;ince. distinctness antl that liberality in Iniying slirub- 
bery should be balaneed l)y a knowledge of its necessity, its 
utility or its nselessness and danuige if planted nevertheless. 

The Coxfohmatiox of the GuorNi). The ground being 
the foundation of all, must be considered before any question 
relating to objects standing thereon can be decided. Wlien 
naturally suitable to tJie demands of scenic beauty, im})rove- 
ments can he made with comparatively little expense. If 
deformed and unsuitable to the most pressing wants of utility 
and beauty, the (piestion of change is the most prominent 
feature, both in regard to economy and to the choice in all 
other matters connected with the improvement. The deform- 
ities of a snuill })iece of ground can be altered in almost all 
cases with a reasonable outlay of money and sliould in conse- 
quence not Ije considered ol)structions to artistic improvement. 
The natural shape of the ground, however, is on the other 
hand, the only l)asis from which the possil)ilities of improve- 
ment can be judged, as in many cases a cluuige would either 
be destructive of the sylvan features, or l^eyond the reason- 
able demands of economy. The moving of ground is an 
expensive operation, and should l)e resorted to only when 
indispensalily necessary, ('oi-rect judgment, the indispensal)le 
attril)ute of all rational im})rovements, will decide what 
changes in the natural surface of the ground can ])ru(lently 
be made, what will pay and what would Ije a useless expendi- 
ture of money. The decision will be the result of a com- 
parison of expense and real advaiitage gained by tlie change. 

A})})lying however the principle of nature's line of beauty, 
or of graceful undulation from one point to the other, a majority 
of difficulties and seeming obstructions are easily overcome, 
and almost all inequalities of the ground can thereby be made 
smooth and harmonious to tlie denuinds of comfort and of 
scenic beauty. 

When viewing many expensive operations in leveling 
o-rounds, and in tlirowing up embankments and terraces in 
the pretended name of imi)rovement, the artist will frequently 
realize that the true meaning of nature's line of undulation is 
a mvsterv to mauv, and that much money could be saved or 



08 KUKAL TASTE, 

otlierwii^e more judiciously expended, if the simplest forms of 
the earth's surface, the gently and roundly undulating and 
ever changing lines of ascent to higher levels, and of descent 
to the lowest levels of the ground were imitated. To change 
a level surface into an undulating one is. in all cases where 
such alteration can l)e made within the financial al)ility of the 
owner, the lirst step of true artistic improvement, A careful 
study of all peculiarities of the surface of the ground will 
suggest the most ex})edient way, and the most efficient manner 
in which the surface can be altered. The effect of taking olf 
earth in one place, and of dej)ositing it on the surface of the 
ground somewhere else, is in all cases the doid^le amount of 
the work actually })erformetl. A gentle depression made in 
the center of a level lawn hy depositing, as a slight elevation, 
the material taken out on each side, will present the lawn in 
double proportion of undulation, when compared with the 
fornu'r level surface. In like manner in many cases a low- 
ering of a shar]i elevation in the ground is productive of much 
additional beauty of the surface, as the eye is thereby enal)led 
to take in at a glance a greater extent of suii'ace than could 
be seen Ijefore. Apparent increase of area is in all cases the 
natural product of the work bestowed on the judicious altera- 
tion of the surface. 

A careful reflection will convince the improver how to avoid 
embankments and terraces along the front of the lawn or the 
house, and how to imprint the line of beauty on every section 
of his ground ; and doing this he will work in harmony with 
the principle of nature's scenery, and consequently in accord- 
ance with the pi-inciples of Landscape Gardening. 

Outlines. I'his su1)ject is, of necessity, identical with the 
principle of clearness of vision. Whatever, therefore, has 
been said on this point in a former connection, is applicable 
likewise in this. In order to understand fully the nature of 
outlines, as being either real skylines or lines seen in front of 
other objects, let us view^ closely a single tree, or a group of 
trees, as it stands before us in the full light of the sky. The 
outlines are thus seen distinctly in every particular, however 
minute, contrasted distinctly also by the light of the sky. 



RURAL TASTE. 69 

The tree or g"roii[) is seen in the inaxiniuni of its inipression, 
or beauty. 

Viewing next a tree standing" in front of a grassy sloi)e of 
the ground, the (nitline is still jtlainly visible, l)ut the skylight 
heing in this ease rei)laee(l l)y the dark color of the hillsi(h\ 
the light or color of the ti"ee is changed, is (hirkei-; its 
Ulterior parts become less distinctly visible, thus ivducing the 
clearness of its ini})ression on the eye. Viewing again a tree 
in its accidental association with other trees, we find that ])art 
of its outlines is not visible, being hidden by its neighl»ors ; 
the color of the tree is influenced likewise by its neighlsors. 
A part of its outline being thus lost to the sight, and its 
color being similarly iutlueiu'cd by other trees, the tree has 
lost much of its own individuality, and being associated with 
many others, similarly atfecteil, it forms part of a mass of 
foliage, the outlines of which are intermixed, whose interior 
is dark, made l>y so close a })roximity of the components of 
the mass. The eye in close proximity to this mass of trees 
sees, therefore, naught l)ut an intermixture of foliage and 
l)ranches, or sees the ti'ees in the minimum of their charac- 
teristic beauty : but when fui'ther removed from this mass, 
distance }>olishes the intermixture of parts, and thus the 
beauty of an intricate variety of the margin of a sylvan mass 
depends in great measui'c on the distance from the eye, A 
piece of ground tlius overgrown by a mixed uuiss of trees is, 
when seen in its interior, luiught but a mass of indistinct out- 
lines, devoid of scenic beauty : but may l)e an attractive sylvan 
feature when seen from a distance. We see l)y this that 
outlines which are real skylines are the most prominent lines 
of the picture, giving to it distinctness of character, and that 
a dark background reduces the distinctness of outlines and 
shades the color of the trees, exercising thereby a great 
influence on the light and shade, the illumination of the 
scene. The more distinctly, therefore, the skylines are devel- 
oped, the- greater will be the sharpness and beauty of the 
scene. The improver surveys in consequence the situation 
from his two points of observation ; namely, from the inside 
and outside of the place. He provides for outlines which will 
shape out a pleasing picture, as seen from the house, and from 



70 KURAL TASTE. 

the outside of the phice. He has it in his own power to 
expose to the eye as much, or as little as may be desirable to 
l)e seen of the surrounding country. He ojiens views and 
shuts them off. He creates the scenery of the interior and 
exterior of the place alike. 

On ground devoid of trees the choice of location on which 
the leading sylvan features are to stand, is a comparatively 
easy one, A clear understanding of the necessity of the 
leading skylines of the trees, will readily convince the im- 
prover where to plant these, and what kinds to select to create 
a variety of outlines. 

When a certain number of trees are on the ground, the tii'st 
attention will be jiaid to an examination of their accidental 
association and relative position on the ground ; distinct sky- 
lines will either be visible at once or it will be clearly seen 
where they can be produced by the removal of such trees, 
which on the one hand can most easily be spared, or which on 
the other hand create the worst confusion. Viewed from 
various })oints, the natural association of certain masses will 
readily appear and it will be likewise seen which trees have to 
be sacrificed to the demands of distinctness of outline. Pain- 
ful as this cutting down of shade trees may appear to many, 
it is nevertheless in innumerable cases the only remedy by 
which a rational im})rovement can be effected ; and many 
people wonder how much the appearance of the i-cmainiiig 
trees is improved. This is altogether owing to the creation of 
distinct outlines, which infuse forthwith a new idea of beauty 
into the scene. 

Remembering on the otlier hand that one tree obstructs 
quite often the view of a dozen otliers at a certain distance 
from it, the benefit of its removal will be so much cleai'ei". 
The apparent extent of the ground will be increased, and the 
place Avill thereby appear in a new light to the outside world. 
The woodman's axe is an indispensable weapon of the im- 
prover, and yet this should be used with great precaution and 
forethought. Certain trees, obstructing the plainest neces- 
sities of distinctness of outlines, should not be spared, as they 
often are, for no better reason than that they are trees, which 
have required many years in the past to grow. A deformed 



RURAL TASTE. 71 

tree, or one in the wrong place wliere it really mars the beauty 
of the scene, ceases to be an ornament, and is therefore 
unwortliy the kind protection of its owner. 

A former generation of pioneers, forcing the patliway of 
civilization through the primeval forests, had naturally a 
different idea of improvement from wliat we possess to-day, 
and many sylvan features of the land were destroyed at a 
time when clearing the ground of trees was the all-prevailing 
necessity of husbandry. The remnants of the old forest are, 
therefore, prized above all other features of the ground by 
the rural taste of our day. Commendable in sentiment as 
is this jealous protection, bestowed on the nol)le trees of the 
past, it is nevertheless in many cases the great impediment to 
rational improvement. Many tall and naked trees have long 
outlived their day of usefulness and beauty, and are a con- 
tradiction in }u-oportion and in appearance to the improvement 
of a later day. Their removal is a public blessing, demanded 
in innumeral)le cases Ijy the simplest requirements of the 
scenic beauty of many towns and private places, Avhich need 
no other stroke of improvement than that of a well-directed 
axe. 

A forest when judiciously Ijruken through in various direc- 
tions, where views to the distance are desired, is converted 
into separate groves and sylvan masses, the varied outlines of 
which will lend a princi})le of variety and of grandeur to the 
scene whicli can never be attained, if the clearing is made 
uniformly tliroughout ^tlie whole ground, whereby the minor 
trees are removed, but no distinct outline of any part is 
developed. Sudi places l)ear the stani]) of uniform sameness 
of shade and cannot lay claim to correct taste possessed by 
their improvers. Quite often the principle of sameness is 
increased in such cases by the miserable practice of trimming 
to a certain height of stem, the climax of which is often a 
coat of Avhitewash applied to the trunks — to kill the bugs 
that many l)e in the bark, tliey say. True art knows no such 
mode of clearing and trimming, but cuts boldly for distinct 
outlines and marked scenic features, based on the principle of 
judicious separation of parts. 

In manv cases tlie demands of agriculture have left the 



V3 KURAL TASTE. 

outlines of a forest in ;i straight line, entirely monotonous to 
the eve. The only mode of improvement in this case, is the 
breaking- of the line by bold recesses, cut into the interior of 
the shade, by which new outlines will readily be developed. 

Quite often however a grove of majestic trees foinis a 
canopy of shade overhead, ^\hich can not be interfered with 
under any consideration. The ground, however, is bare and 
demands a toucli of art, to diversify the sameness of the 
natural lawn. Im})rovers, ignorant of the principle of land- 
scape gardening, will generally set out amidst the tall forest 
trees a miscellaneous nnmber of small trees and shrubs, fancy- 
ing that they will thus attain the desiicd effects of iminove- 
ment. The result however is sim})ly a confused mass of 
bushes and ill-developed trees, not a real improvement l)ut on 
the contrary, the opposite of attractive beauty. A slight 
acquaintance with the principle of rational planting for scenic 
effects will teach the improver that all that is to ])e set out 
must be ])lantc(l un(k'i- a system of assf»ciation, l)y which tlie 
various groujis of evergreen trees and of shrubliery in 
general will form a new combination of sylvan outlines by 
which a new idea of vai'iety and l)eauty of the grove will 
be created. How sadly are the groves in the home grounds 
of many tasteful and rehned jjcople. disfigured and made 
repulsive to the eye of taste by useless bi-ushwcod. called in 
this case, ornamental shrubbery which is admired not for its 
intrinsic beauty (which it does not possess), but simply because 
it is on the ground and l)ecause — as they say — it would l)e a 
great pity to cut it down. 

Trees, The Principle of Shade. In viewing the mode 
of association of trees in scenery at large, we have seen that 
they a})pear under two distinct modes of association ; they are 
either single trees, clumps and groves, or they form thickets, 
which on a larger scale, are called forests. 

The amount of shade produced depends thus altogether on 
the mode of combination of the masses. Trees associated into 
clumps or groves, having clean stems and no undergrowth 
between their trunks, yield thus only a certain amount of 
shade, proportioned to the proximity in which they stand to 



KL'RAL TASTE. 73 

each other. The thicket, on the other hand, coTering- the 
ground completely, and l)eing a solid mass of foliage, is thus 
the fullest medium of shade. This difference is plainly visible 
when the pleasant shade cast by a grove is comj)ared with that 
of a forest. It is a matter of course : yet the influence exer- 
cised l)y this 'Mnatter of course"" on the grace and variety of 
the landscape is unnoticed by many observers, and is in 
consequence ignored liy many improvers of ground. 

Compare as an illustration of this i)oint a view made up 
solely by groves of trees scattered over a wide extent of 
ground, the impression is one of sameness, the scene is un- 
meaning to oiu^ made up of groves, or thickets, and of forest 
masses. How great is the diff'erence in variety of lieauty I 
Applying the same principle to landscape gardening, we see 
that groves and single trees can produce only one type of 
scenery, and that a cf)ml)ination of both modes of planting, 
groves and thickets, must of necessity yield variety and con- 
sequently increased l)eauty. Much of the unmeaning, stiff. 
artificial look of many ornamental grounds is owing to the 
absence of variety of association in planting. Their scenery 
is a succession of groves and single trees, all beautiful in 
themselves, yet imperfectly associated. Such parks or })leas- 
ure grounds may well be admired as models of the science of 
civil engineering, of road constructing ; but they display too 
plainly the absence of thai art by which alone the attractive 
beauty of the scenery can 1)0 created. 

The art of landscape gardening adopts, therefore, two dis- 
tinct systems of grouping, ojx'n planting and close planting, 
and Imlances the degree of shade produced l)y groves and 
thickets to the requirements of the ground. Variety of associa- 
tion is fully as important as variety of trees and shrubs selected. 
All views desired to be hidden from tlie sight of the interior 
of a ]dace. can readily 1)6 concealed by a solid mass of foliage. 
A sylvan barrier to the view is usually called the heli, which 
finds its application in a great variety of cases. The height 
of the belt controls the view to the outside of the place. A 
belt of shrubbery on the nnirgin of the place will secure 
privacy to the interior, and will j)ermit a view to all ol)jects of 
the outside which mav combine harmoniouslv with the scenery 



74 RURAL TASTE. 

of the place. A belt of small growing shrubs will thus hide 
the unpleasant siglit of a muddy higliAvay without obscuring 
the pleasant animation created by its tratHc. Wherever grace- 
ful shade and unobstructed views are desired, the trees will Ije 
associated in imitation of the open grove. Where full shade 
and relative concealment is demanded, the natural thicket 
will find its a})})lication. The im})rover has by this choice of 
association of trees and shrubbery full control over the etfects 
of light and shade in his work. He is enal)led not only to 
guess hopefully at certain results, but knows with certainty 
what effects will be i)roduced by certain causes. 

Trees as I)istri]!ITED over thk (iROUXD. It has l)een 
noticed when viewing nature's scenery that the mode of dis- 
tribution of the masses of shade conditions not oidy the 
general balance of light and shade of forests and meadows, 
but also the variety, the intricai-y of all sylvan features. It 
has been seen that a combination of the different types of 
association, of groves and clunjps sprung up around the 
margins of the thicket or the forest makes u]) the endless 
diversity of the sylvan effects from which the landscape 
receives its real hues of l)eauty. Art has in consequence to 
inquire closely into the material cause of its endless variety of 
the perspective. In order to find this cause Ave have to exam- 
ine the outline on the ground, encircling the space of soil 
really occupied by trees and Ijushes ; the real ground plan of 
the mass, the foliage margin of which presents so great a 
variety of light and shade of form and color. This line is a 
very irregular one indeed : it has many prominent points, and 
cuts deep inlets into the interior. Wlien designed on paper 
it is considered an oddity of tlesign l)y all unacquainted with 
its meaning. We find that the trees standing in the most 
prominent })arts of the ground thus encircled, form the 
leading masses of the grou}), the outlines of which make up 
the general skyline of the whole mass. The striking contrasts 
of light and shade, however, are the product of the deep 
recesses of the line into the interi<n' of the group. Suj)i)osing 
that the latter were uniformily filled up with trees, then 
naturally these characteristic contrasts would forthwith ])e 



KUKAL TASTE. 75 

missing. Art is thus forced to copy, to adopt tlie principle 
developed luid demonstrated by this broken ground line of 
nature's groups and c()ud)ination, and just liere is seen the 
fundamental practical difference between painting and plant- 
ing. The jiainter copies the perspective as seen by the eye, 
the ]ilanter has to follow u}> tlie ground line, the real cause 
of that which has made the perspective, the fundamental 
})rinci])le of nature's mode of design. Adopting it in his 
designs, and using good judgment in the selection of trees 
and shrubs, he efpuds the design of nature, and })roduces 
quite often what the i)ainter calls perfection in composition 
of an ideal landscape. He })i-oduces scenic effects intrinsically 
true to nature, yet more brilliant and attractive than those 
usually found in nature. 

The more irregular and consequently spirited the ground 
line, the more contrasted and attractive will l)e the perspec- 
tive of tlie sylvan nniss ; wliereas the less the variations of the 
ground lines the less must naturally be the beauty of the 
sylvan margin. Tliis logical conclusion ends finally with the 
circle and the straight line which is the opposite of all varia- 
tion. The difference of appearance of a natural group and a 
ring or a row of trees or a hedge is thus fully explained. The 
straight line possesses the minimum of beauty — an assertion 
which many will not indorse — yet it is nevertheless true that 
no mode of planting does in principle so much damage to the 
scenic appearance as that of the innumerable straight lines of 
trees which produce the maximum of obstruction to the view 
of a place from without, and to the view from the principal 
windows of the house to the outside. No reference is made 
in this connection to the lines of shade trees which decorate 
the streets of every town of the land, which arc the only fit 
mode of decoration and protection ; nor to any shady avenue 
of private ])laces, Avhicli may be in perfect harmony with its 
surroundings, but to tlie many useless rows of trees, planted 
solely for fashion's sake, ov because tlieir owner knew no 
better. Protection from sunshine or dust is often advanced 
as the object of this mode of planting, yet in most cases these 
demands of utility can be supplied likewise by the natural 
mode of groujiing. 



76 rural taste. 

Trees in their Relatiox to the Elevation of the 
GrROUND. Tlie beauty of many landscapes consist of forest- 
covered elevations and open valleys decked with a carpet of 
smiling verdure. Art copies this principle in its fullest sense. 
The depressions of the gTound form, therefore, the lawns, 
sparingly and intricately interrupted by trees ; the eleva- 
tions are shaded by groves and forest groups. A natural bal- 
ance of light and shade is thus establislied. which sttimps tlie 
product of art as intrinsically true t(» nviture. Whatever 
variations from this general rule may occur amidst the endless 
diversity of circumstances surrounding the improver, he will 
nevertheless hold fast to the princi})le, and harmonize thereto as 
far as possible the accidental })resence of trees in places where 
they are not necessarily demanded. The sylvan features of 
the ground, as accident iuis placed them in his way. are the 
rational liasis on which he must operate ; a choice must there- 
fore often be made between such })arts thereof as can be 
retained and sucli as must unconditionally l)e removed. The 
selection will in all cases l)e most judiciously made if gov- 
erned l)y this uniform standaid of beauty of nature's scenes. 

The Effects Produced by Trees axd Shrubs, as Com- 
bined AMONGST themselves, and in their relation to scenery 
of which they are the most important factors of decoration, have 
been discussetl on various former ^^ages. It has been stated that 
the endless variety produced bv their association is not the 
product of accidental intermixture in combination. l)ut is 
governed by the principle of harmony and contrast. Art is 
firmly founded on this basis. The material of the painter 
consists of a variety of colors, that of the improver is a long 
list of trees, shrubs and flowers. The Avork-shop is virtually 
the same ; it is the study of art. Like produces like — this is 
the shortest interpretation possil)le of the word harmony. A 
number of like trees associated with each other form a mass 
which is intrinsically like the individual type of the tree. 
This is direct harmony. Trees resembling each other closely 
in habit of growth and in form will produce relative harmony, 
according to their degree of similarity ; forms the opposite in 
type will be a contrast to each other. The same principle 
holds true in color. 



Kl'KAL TASTE. 77 

We will suppose the grouiul to be improved is outlined by 
tlie cipplication of the princi^jles discussed above. It is divided 
into light i.nd shade, into lawn and forest, and the s])ots 
where shade is to be, are indicated on the ground. The de- 
cision is now to be made, what to select and what to plant. 
As stated al)ove the imjirover is placed here solely on an 
artistic basis, on which he will eithei' prove a master or a 
mere apprentice. He assorts his material first as to height 
and habit of growth, next as to form of foliage, and hnally 
as to color. In separating the great number of trees and 
slirul)s he makes two leading divisions, the deciduous and tlie 
evergreen types. These differ materially in habit of growth, 
in form and in color : they are the two sylvan opposites. 
Their difference is lieightened still by contrasts presented 
during tlie winter, when the leaf trees are defoliated, wliile 
the evergreens are at tlie height of their glory. 

The most numerous family, the deciduous ty})e, is next 
divided as to the habit of growth. It yields live distiiict 
types of form : (1) The upright, towering, represented by 
the Lombardy Toplar. (•■3) The u})right, with horizontally 
extending brancdies, the oak. (o) The uprigiit, with grace- 
fully inclined branches, tlie maple and the beech. (4) The 
gracefully drooping, the walnut or liirch. (5) The weeping, 
drooping willow. When dividing by type of foliage we oljtain 
a variety of sub-divisions, the leading ones of which are (1) 
the large-leafed type, tlic catalpa. ('i) Tlie distinctly-pointed 
oak. (3) The full and round maple. (4-) The transparent 
locust. (5) The delicate willow. Dividing again by color 
we have the glossy dark, ash and oak ; the different shades of 
green, the silvery white, the delicately light. In like manner 
can the list of flowering shrubs, so indispensalile in the deco- 
ration of grounds, be divided as to their time of flowering, as 
to color of flowers and of foliage, and as to habit of growth 
and height. These different modes of sulidivisioii are indis- 
pensably necessary in order to know the real nature of the 
material with which the sylvan scenery is to be composed. An 
absence of this clear consciousness will produce the unmeaning 
masses of shrubbery met everywhere, and planted not only by 
amateur iinprovers, but often by pretended landscape gar- 



78 RURAL TASTE. 

(leners. It can thus l)e easily seen how sylvan effects can be 
produced, not by mere chance on Avhich so many depend, but 
with al)solute certainty. A nund)er of towerinjj- trees, as 
|)0})hirs. planted inside a group of maples, will develop a 
spirited skyline for that group. In like manner will a grove 
made u}) of various forms of nnindly developing trees have an 
outline distinctly contrasted with that of any other group 
made up of other ty])es of foliage. The outlines, the con- 
trasts of color of foliage,, in short, the true character of each 
part of the scene, are tlius entirely under the control of the 
improvei'. A rational use of the material at hand, enables 
the paiutei- to express on his caiivas the ai'tistic i(U'as of his 
mind, and enables the landscape ai'iist to do the same, but 
one, ignorant of tlie true point of ai"t involved, is an ai'tist 
only in so far as the white-washer or house-|)ainter is an artist 
in colors. 

Let us take an e\am])le of three places markeii out to be 
planted. If we do as so many others do, the three places 
will be tilled u}) with a miscellaneous lot of shrubbery, regard- 
less of distinctions mentioiu'd above, 'i'liere will thus be 
j)roduced three groups, mixed alike, and conse(piently alike 
in sylvan effect when develojjed. 8u])posing that we select 
one kind of trees for each, the etfect will be a variety, made 
up of three distinct types. AVe thus produce three distinct 
groups. Sup})osing again that we select the trees with a view 
to similarity of habit. Suppose Ave select the wee[)ing type, 
we produce three different groups of Avee])ing trees. Su})pose 
we select the trees as to ti]it of foliage, or as to shape of 
foliage, we produce all the while distinct groups expressing 
certain features of sylvan beauty and we produce variety, 
liut sup})ose we make one grouji a mass of pines, the other a 
mass of weeping trees, the third a mass of mai>les. In this 
case we make three distinct contrasts; in form and color. 
Thus far we have only made three distinct scenic features, 
Avhich uuiy be harmonious or contrasted with each other in 
accordance with the material chosen. The principle of 
variety stands thus at three. But supposing that each of the 
three groups is to l)e made up of three different kinds of trees 
and presently the scale of variet}- rises to nine, and may be 



KUltAL TASTE. 79 

easily raised even to tweiity-.sevt'ii. The selection in associa- 
tion can 1)e made with a view to harmony or to striking 
contrasts ; the artist is the sole jndgc of what he wishes to 
accomplish. 

It has been said above that the meeting ground of o})])osites 
is the base on which the grentest and most pleasing variety 
can be produced. This axiom finds its fullest application in 
the contrasts })roduced by the two most distinct sylvan ty})es. 
the coniferous and deciduous classes. Two groups expressing 
the distinct ty})e of either side can. on their extremities, meet 
and intermingle with each other, and produce thereby an 
indefinite variety of combination. The skillful blending of 
both ty})es is in every case the cause of much pleasing contrast 
of form and color of foliage. 

It is evident that a discussion on so endless a subject as the 
combination of sylvan groups might be accompanied by 
innumeralile examples, which when descril)ed oidy in words 
would naturally make the subjuet tedious to the reader. We 
have not started out to discuss details of design in any form, 
but to cx[)rcss in as few and i)lain words as [)ossible. the 
fundamental ideas of the art of Landscape Gai'deiiing : l)ut 
not to entei' into a discussion of horticultural and l)otanieal 
subjects connected therewith. We have endeavored to show 
that this art is based on a few principles founded in nature's 
scenery, which can readily be comprehended by everyone 
who will give the subject a serious, eai'eful thought, and 
which when generally understood and a(h)pted in the rural 
im})rovements of the western liomes, made in a majority of 
cases not for beauty's sake but for self protection against the 
extremes of the climate, would im})rint the seal of scenic 
beauty into the home grounds of every one willing to adoi)t 
them and thereby to fall into line with the j)rinciples of 
coi-rect taste which he acknoAvledges and follows through 
perhaps unknowingly in domestic life. 

The princi})les governing the treatment of native forest 
tracts to suit them to the demands of habitation, find iiatur- 
ally their })ractical applications mostly in the wooded districts 
of the hind. The principles of planting apply with the greatest 
force to the prairie home, and how great is the field which 



80 RURAL TASTE. 

practical art has yet to conquer. We shall, in consequence, 
return to this subject when we discuss the practical applica- 
tion of the principle of art in connection with the homesteads 
of the western people. 

The Lawx. the Principle of LktHT, not merely of light 
alone, l)ut in reality the true principle of iK^auty of any place; 
being the natural balance of shade it should be in rational 
relative proportion to the lattt'r. But in the establishment of 
this balance many mistakes are made whicii result in serious 
injury to tlie lawn. The heat of our summers is so depressing 
that every one longs for shade, and generally supposes that he 
cannot have too much of that blessing. Each open spot is 
therefore viewed with a silent wish to set out a shade tree 
on it, and thus the balance of light is continually disturbed 
I)V a well-meaning desire for more shade, while the point of 
proportion between the two extremes is overlooked. Most 
people forget likewise that there are several months in the 
vear when pleasant light and sunshine are far more desirable 
than sombre shade, and fail to make their etforts on those 
places Avhere shade is really mosi needed, not only in regard 
to scenic beauty, but also to solid comfort. Shade is thus 
scattered over all tiie place, and often sti-angely neglected 
where most needed. But no matter how much or how little 
shade is actually desired by the improver, the lawn should 
always be distinctly visible and not be indiscriminately planted 
full of young trees. This is demanded by the principle of 
judicious separation, without whicli no distinctness of outline 
and consequently no scenic beauty can exist, as has been con- 
clusively proven ])y what has l)een said before. 

Considering the subject however from a point of view 
bearing directly on the artistic design of the improvement, it 
will be remembered that the lines to ])e designed for the shady 
masses, if properly chosen will be very irregular, admitting 
the lawn deep into the interioi- of the shade, by which circum- 
stance the greatest variety of sjdvan contrasts is produced. 
Whatever benefits, therefore, the shady nnisses will likewise 
make up the true intricacy and variety of the lawn, the same 
cause in-oducMug the same effect on both opposites. Whatever 



RURAL TASTK. SI 

has bcHMi saiil on tlu' coiit'oi-niatioii dI' the i^touikI, applies also 
to the lawn, jnasimich as the lawn is the surJ'aee of the 
, groimd, decked with a vei'dant carpet ol' i^rass. The beautiful 
lines of undulation which the ground may have in a state of 
nature, oi' which ai't may have ma<lc. are the true charms of 
the lawn. Smoothness of sui'face an<l ncatiu'ss in kee[)inii- arc 
indispensahle to scenic beauty as well as to the ti-iic comfort 
of any place ; it is the princi[)le which distinii'uishes the char- 
ai^ter of t lu' i;-i'ound surr(»iiiidinu- the homestead from that of 
any otiicr spot of ^^-round muulward nature. It should alwavs 
be the lirst objecti\c [)oint in the iui[)i'o\cnu'nt ami constant 
maintenance of any [)lace. It will li'racc tlu' home no nuittei' 
how much Ol' how little the i^i'ound may otherwise be deco- 
rated, it is the tirst ju'lnciple of coi'i'ect iniral taste. 

Watkr. 'Jdiis refresh inj.'- and life-L;i vin,u' cU'inent is bul 
seldom at tlic disjxisal of tiic impi'o\t'i'. Its presence in 
scenery made by art will be the same cause of beautv a,s it is 
to all scenery at laru'e. Its inti'oduction into the dcsiu'u of 
the improver should be udvei'ne(l by the same natural laws 
which plaiH' it always in the lowest levels of the ^'round. 'I'he 
contour lines of a water coui'se. a, pouil oi' a snuiU lake, should 
be designed as true to the [latterns of natui'e. in gi'aceful. eas\ 
liiu', gi\'ing no evidences of intcrfei'cncc by the iia-nd of ait. 
Its introduction into the [ilau of any im[)rovement should be 
strifitly guarded b_\' tJie consideration of constant supply, bv 
whi(di alone water I'aii be ke[)t [wiiv and healthy. When 
stagnant or im[)ure, its [)resen<'e in grounds devoted to the 
special use and recreation of man. is forbidden by the rules of 
the most ordinary good judgment. When naturally tiowing 
on the ground its advantage to the beauty of the scenery can- 
not be too highly pri/c(l. The im[)ro\'er will ihei'cfore try to 
regulate it to the best possible advantage ^Fuch might be 
said on the design of scenic features in wliich water [ilays a 
leading })art, and much more on the priuci[)les of its use in 
fountains, yet all these I'onsidi'rations are foreign to the object 
i)i view, which is simply to trace the fundanuMital principles 
of nature's scc'uic l)eauty, that, they may be fully understood 
by all who wish to make a rational use of them in the orna- 
mentation of their grounds. 



8:^ EUKAL TASTE. 

Rocks are similar to water, but sparingly used by the 
improver of grounds, as a material of scenic features. They 
can, however, be introduced into the design far oftener than 
water, and are in consequence worthy of full consideration as 
a factor of decoration. Their use should be strictly governed 
by art's fundamental demand, intrinsic truth to nature. If 
within this pale of safety they are the material with which 
an endless variety of attractive scenery can be formed ; if 
outside this rational enclosure, they are the numerous piles of 
rock found in so many places, on the lawn, in front of the 
house, or behind it. anywhere where they can be most sadly 
out of place. In viewing the rocks of nature we have seen 
that wherever they appear, a natural cause, a use of their 
presence is visible also. But as this is not the case with a 
heap of stones piled as a so-called rockery upon a smooth 
•dressed hnvn, their sensible use in that connection is very 
problematic. Whenever they are used by the improver there 
•ought also to be an indication, or a possibility at least, that 
they might be the product of nature, otherwise they are sim- 
ply indications of mere fancy, and consequently of doubtful 
taste. They can thus be very appropriately used on desceiul- 
ing ground, where they will a2)pear as cropping out of the 
ground ; they can be attached to the foundation of the house, 
appearing thus as a mass in connection with the rock on 
which the house is supposed to rest. Wherever the mind can 
be satisfied with their natural connection with the ground 
they will be a pleasing variety in scenery provided, however, 
that they appear natural, or at least resemble naAire more than 
■a stone wall. 

In designing their outlines the improver should always 
have the native freedom of natural rocks vividly before his 
imagination ; should try to imitate the broken line which 
characterizes all spots where they naturally exist. In order to 
imitate these characteristic features, liberal allowance for space 
betAveen the different parts of the rock work should be made 
from which trees and ferns and grasses can conveniently grow. 
Any means whatever should be adopted to disguise the hand 
of art, to counteract the principle of a wall, or the straight- 
ness of a mason's line. The imitation should be based on the 



RURAL TASTE. 83 

princi])le on which rocks appear in Xature. eitlier in the form 
of a solid liluff, or as a group of fragments piled up by a 
iiatnral force. In like manner should their natural associa- 
tion with shade and retirement be imitated ; they should 
therefore not l)e placed as gew gaws in prominent positions, 
but sliould appear as only incidental accompaniments of the 
scenery. There is perha})s no branch in landscape gardening 
in which more good taste, and also more false and horrible 
taste can be displayed, than in the imitation of rocks. A 
scene, though small it may be, yet a true likeness of nature, 
is always a pleasure and relief to the eye ; while a tasteless, 
clumsy piece of rock work is so much more annoying to the 
eve of correct taste. 



THE ORNAMENTAL GPtOUNDS OF OUR COUNTRY. 



The leading features of the scenery of our couiitry luive been 
discussed at some lengtli on the preceding pages, not only to 
deduct therefrom the fundamental ideas of the art of orna- 
mental gardening, but also to awaken an interest in the 
scenic characteristics of tlie country in many who may 
have been thus far inditferent to the sights which everybody 
beholds. The rural masses of this nation should surely feel 
deeply interested in the scenery of the rural park amidst 
which they live, in which they form their rural tastes, and 
whose bountiful material returns they reap from year to year. 
The subject, when viewed in this light, is not a mere nnitter 
of art or taste, but one of general intelligence of the people. 

Viewing the ^Jarks and private grounds of tlie leading cities 
of the land we find the principles of the art of landscape 
gardening clearly expressed and verified in their scenery. We 
see at the first glance that the attractive beauty of such 
grounds consists of clearness of outlines ; of distinctness of 
lawn and wood ; of light and shade ; of sharpness of lines of 
communication and of variety, harmonious and contrasted. 



84 KUKAJ. TAtsTK. 

of the coniiioneut parts : nuikinsj up the design of the gruuiul 
and the perspeeitive oiithnes of the sylvan masses. We sei' at 
the same time tliat wherever attractive natm-al l)eauty is miss- 
ing, the cause is ])hiinly atti'ilnitable to either willful or 
accidental violation of those fundamental conditions. Xo 
one ac(|uainted with these |n'inciplcs will he misled or })leas- 
antly humored otherwise hy the gaudy dis}»lays of tloi'icultnre 
a]id rui-al ni'cliitecture (piite frequently olfere<l in their stead. 
Nature and art make up the oi-uamcntal grouiul. Nature 
dwells within its sceiu'iw of wood and lawn : art ih'signs and 
consti'ucts its drives and roads and pedestrian walks, together 
with the summer houses and flower beds. 

Some of the leading })ul)lic pai'ks arc ti'ue cx[ioiu'Uts. living 
exam[)les of tins art. l)Ut others must hv called the products 
of tile art of civil engineering. What is tin- difference 
between the two 'f Landscape gai'dening is governed l)y the 
pi'inciplc of syhan beauty and utility combined, whih' civil 
engineering stands solely on the basis of utility, mistaking 
the beauty of curves and elegant roadways for the true ])rin- 
(•i]»le of l)eanty. It designs and (,'onstructs all features of 
necessity, of comfort and convenience, and fancies that this 
is the ultimate of pei-fection. The sylvan asjiects of the park 
are considered a minor item of the improvement, which can 
be left to the so-called landscape gardeiiei'. or rather, tree 
planter. It is thus a usual thing that this good uian starts 
out from the principle that the pi'ople want sliade. which no 
one will deny. He ])lants rows of trees parallel with the 
beautiful cui'ved drives and roadways of the engineer-in-chief. 
Now what is the result 'f 'IMie jU'incijile of sameness, nnule 
u}i of tree-lined streets of the city, is hopelessly per}ietuated 
in tlu' costly p\d»lic park foi' which the wiiole community is 
liberally taxed, obtaining in return grass and trees, and shade, 
and elegant drives, and cunning summer houses, aiul ])agodas 
of all ilesigns, together with a full corps of ornamenttd oth- 
cials, but no true scenic beauty, no enchanting views in the 
distance, no variety of scenery. 

AVhen it is felt that the park is tame and monot<inous, not- 
withstanding all the money ali'eady expended, then the tlorist 
is called in for as.sistance. The scenery of a park, it is hoped. 



KURAL TASTE. 85 

will now he ii";iy eiiuiiLih to suit nil tastes. Glass houses arc 
erected ami l)e(l(liu,u' i)]auts hv the hundred-thousand are 
raised to he i)lanted wherever the park needs a soft touch of 
variety. This is the way in which various [)arks oF h-ading 
cities liave l»eeu wei^litcd down with "'real loads of lovely 
flowers, all very heantiful in themselves and when properly 
associated witjj tlic sceneiw. hut a contradiction to correct 
taste and sensil)Ie utility when })resenf in excessive masses. 

The liheral use made of llowers as a mediuju of decoration of 
l)arks and }iul)lic places, is sui'cly a testimony of refined taste 
j)ossessed hy the comnnmitics indulgino- in this expensive 
luxurv. The many puhlic (lower gardens and jiarteri'cs of 
hrilliant-colored leaf plants, cannot fail to elevate the })uhli(^ 
taste of the country in a very high degree, and to fostei- and 
stimulate in the nnisses a love of floriculture, lint when floral 
decorations are present in excessive numbers and disproixu'- 
tioned to all other features surrounding them, they lose mucli 
of their real value. 1)econnng a thing of consta]it re})etition, and 
conscjuentlv a source of ciuiiii to the mind. Tlie worst featui'e 
however, with which worthy ohjects can he comlnned, is to 
he used as a cover of the lack of something else which true 
taste would have produced if admitted in the council of the 
design. Floral decorations art' tlius often used to compi'usate 
for real scenic sylvan t)eauty. outside the I'cady reach of many 
who mav have the good foi'tune of controlling puhlic works 
designed for recreation ami eductition of the masses of the 
people. Sucli Works are therclty deprived <|uite often of their 
highest attrihute. intrinsic ti'uth to nature, tlie source of 
])leasui'e to all minds and constMpiently the l)asis on which all 
tastes can agree. The absence of this desideratum is often 
hidden liy a })rofusion of flowers which gardeners can so 
I'eadily }»roduce, admired hy the general public for theii- 
l)eauty"s sake ; but true taste cannot so easily be blindfiolded, 
and silently regrets the limited degree of artistic inspiration 
possessed by the designer. 

Editors of agricultural journals have often told the pul)lic 
of a reliable antidote against ti universal evil ; the swindling 
of the credulous I)y cunning sharpers. This safeguaixl con- 
sists, as they sav. in a continuous sid)Scription to each one of 



86 KURAL TASTE. 

their excellent papers, by which the intelligence of the reader 
will be sufficiently sharpened to withstand the plausible stories 
of the itinerant fraternity. A similar remedy can be recom- 
mended to the people of cities blessed with public grounds, 
undergoing continuous improvements of ornamentation. Let 
them or their representative men at least, acquaint themselves 
with the fundamental axioms of landscape gardening, by 
which their rational judgment in matters of rural affairs will 
be wonderfully improved, making the pathway of designing 
artists, who are destitute of real knowledge, less pleasant than 
it is in many cases. The intelligence of the public would 
thereby be enabled to foresee the future effect of the im})rove- 
ment, in many cases elaborately displayed by highly-colored 
maps and showy plans. It would l)e seen from the beginning 
of the planting of the ground, whether a momentai'y display 
of energy is aimed at, or whether the foundation of future 
charming sylvan features is being laid, and many years would 
not have to elapse before absurdity in design could )je distin- 
guished from true merit. The improvement of a public 2>Hi-k 
would thereby be judged as correctly as the progress of public 
buildings, in which incompetency of the directing architect 
is speedily discovered and justly rebuked. The impartial 
observer has often silently to wonder at the difference in 
sagacity displayed in the expenditure of funds for public 
buildings and for the improvement of public grounds. In 
tlie latter the footprints of the pensioner of municipal or 
mystic power is frequently but too plainly visible ; a matter 
which causes profound regret to every lover of scenic beauty. 



Part Third, 



TTERS ep Pact. 



CORRECT Jri)(;A[KXa\ 



It has \k'v\i stated that the art of hiinlscajH' gardeiiiug is a 
compuinid of artistic ideas, generated hy a study of nature, 
and correct judgment in all matters relating to comfort and 
convenience, to adaptation of the ground to the purposes for 
which it is destined. All (piestions arising in the design, im- 
provement and permanent nuiinteiuince of ornamental grounds 
must, in conscffnence. he decided by a rational considei'ation 
of tile princijiles of art and of correct judgnu'id. Matters of 
art. as discussed in the fori'going chaptei', are considered by 
many as mei'e fiction, which may be used at pleasui'e in one 
direction or the other. A calm consideration, howevei', of 
the conditions undei' which scenic l)eauty can alone possibly 
exist, will induce the improver to inquire tii'st into the de- 
mands of clearness of outline, ilue l)alance of light and shade, 
variety made uj) by harmony and contrast of parts and grace 
of surface of the ground, liefore he permits his stern judg- 
ment in matters of economy, c(tnveiiie!U'c and comfoi't to 
nnd\e up the entii'c slate of the improvement of ids grounds. 

liKLATl\'K Pliol'Oirriox. We are ac'customed to view all 
things by a certain standard or scale of measuiv, and to judge 
therein' the degree of excellence, real or iinagiiuiry. Size is 
established by the nnud in the same manner. A rational 
consideration of scale and relative pro})ortion is therefore in- 
dispensable in all questions ai'ising in the formation of a plan 
of improvement. 

Objects are large and small oidy by com})arison with othei' 
objects with which they can reasonably be compared. All 
things must have a pi'oper relative pro})ortion to each other in 
order to comply with the plainest rules of common sense. 
Yet many fail to he conscious of the ti'ue standard of measure 
by which such matters of fact, in connection with their 
premises, should be judged by themselves, as the intelligence 
of the ])ublic views tb.em strictly on this basis, and establishes 



90 RURAL TASTE. 

tliereby their estimation of the owner's good Judgment and 
correct taste. No one can escape this test of reasonable com- 
parison, and his work is therefore just what others see it to 
be. The yard surrounding the homestead is for this reason a 
true index of the owner's taste and grade of culture. The 
aspect of a town is an indication of the people who live in it. 
They are to be judged not merely by the appearance of their 
business places ; but likewise by that of their homes and of 
the ground in whicli they expect to be buried. 

Staxdakd of Measure. Some objects have an established 
size, while others may be indefinitely large or small. The 
average size of a man or an animal is generally understood ; 
such objects are therefore a true scale by which the approxi- 
mate size of other objects may be measured. When a man is 
seen standing in front of a tombstone or a tree, the size of the 
latter can be correctly guessed, as every one knows that the 
average size of a man is about six feet. A tree, however, 
cannot serve as such a standard of measure inasmuc^h as it 
may be 20 or 50 feet high. The eye measures distance by the 
same principle of relative proportion. A railroad train seen 
at a distance will give a clear idea of the distance l)etween the 
eye and the train, I)ut a tree seen at a distance is no such 
indication. Two trees, having an unknown height, can be 
com])ared to each other, by which only their relative, but not 
their true proportion is estaljlislied. The eye takes uncon- 
sciously the tallest, most prominent object in sight, and makes 
it the standard of measure. The size of a yard, or the height 
of the house is thus measured Ity the trees staiiding near by. 
The size of the yard will appear small if a \ery tall tree 
stands in its center. A house will look insignificant if unpro- 
portionately overtopped by high trees. Xow should that 
tall tree in the yard be removed then the extent of the ground 
will forthwith appear larger, as the unjust measure is missing. 
The eye is left in doubt as to the real extent of the area of 
the ground. Should the tops of the trees be cut off, by which 
the trunks will grow more bushy and spreading, then the size 
and importance of the house will be increased also, as the 
disproportion of trees and house is removed. We learn by 



RURAL TASTE. 91 

the above that a known standard of measure is really a 
true scale to the eye ; tluit an unknown standard can only 
be used in comparison, i-elatively to otlier objects ; that the 
removal of a standard of measure is beneficial in many cases, 
and that the substitution of a smaller standard will relatively 
increase tlie size of objects. We have a true standard, a 
relative one, the removal of a standard, or the chaug'e of a 
standard, as very important items in our vision. 

Measure of Distaxce and Extent. Distance betwa^en 
two given points is measured mathematically by the straight 
line between the two points, which cannot be otherwise than 
the shortest line. Wherever this straight line is indicated, 
and plainly visil)le, it must be the true scale by which the 
distance is measured, by which the size of any piece of ground 
is revealed at a glance. A parcel of ground bounded l)y 
plainly visible straight lines must therefore appear in the 
minimum of its size. Tliere can be no doubt of the size of a 
yard surrounded by four straight lines of the fence. The 
more distinct the enclosure is, say by a coat of white-wash, the 
smaller, therefore, will the yard appear. Any design made in 
its interior by the adoption of straight lines, will display both 
grounds and design in the truest, the smallest possible size. 
The same principle holds true in regard to the shape of the 
ground. When level, the ground will appear smallest ; when 
undulating, the ground will appear larger in due proportion 
to the undulations, A curved line between two given points 
being mathematically longer than a straiglit line, will remove 
the points apparently further apart ; will increase the size of 
the ground. The substitution of a curved line for a straight 
one is thus of necessity an increase of size, wliich can l)c 
adoi)ted in tlie inside, in the design of the ground. The 
enclosure however is a fixed fact which cannot be altered. 
The sight of the straight line can. in great measure, be coun- 
teracted by curved outlines of trees and shrubs along the line, 
which when closely planted to have foliage to the ground will 
fully break up the sight of the straight fence line, and will 
relieve the eve from the monotonv of the enclosure. 



92 KL'KAL TASTK. 

liESTKUTIONS 1!Y COKKEIT Jui)GMEXT. The lulviiutnge 

ottered in the substitution of curves for straight lines can 
however Ije al)used if not guarded l)y tlie stern demands of 
coninion sense. A curve must always show the cause for 
which it is made. If devoid of this rational explanation it 
will appear a mere iU)tion of the designer. Its course must, in 
consequence, be justified by the sha})e of the ground and Ity 
objects along its way. wbic.li nnike it a necessity. It will 
readily be seen liow wide a tield is oi)en to tlu' designer of 
grounds, to comply with tlie requisite of correct judgment. 
It will 1)e seen why the ser[)entine line, so often adopted and 
admired in gi'ounds. is conti'ary to correct judgment and in 
consequence beyond tiie line of correct taste. The fundamen- 
tal laws of vision must in tliis connection be considered. It 
tells us that the objects nearest to tin- eye are seen in their full 
size and tlnit their size diminishes in ratio to the distance 
from the eye. The tallest tree nearest the front fence of the 
[)lace. l)eing constantly seen l)y every ])asser-by. is thus the 
nearest scale by whicii all else will be judged. It is in conse- 
quence the cause of the greatest disproportion ; more so than 
other trees inside, pei'haps ('(|ually liigh. yet furtlier ivnu)veil 
from the eye. 

All calculations on design and iuiprovement of ground, 
must l)e based on this ])rinci})le of scale and rational propor- 
tion. A wide field is thus open to the improver to establish a 
scale of relative proportion by the removal of a true standard 
of measure, or In* substituting another scale therefor more 
suited to oljjects all around. The eye is thus pleasantly 
deceived and left in doul)t as to the real extent of ground and 
true relative proportion. Inniginary s})ace is what the 
improver is really striving for when skillfully concealing the 
true standard of measure. 

True Staxdakd of Measure. Hound judgment demands 
the maintenance of a real scale, absolutely true, when the 
question is to l)e decided of what can ho put on the ground ; 
what can naturally grow thereon or not. Young trees are not 
considered toys, whicli can he set out at pleasure, but are 
viewed with regard to their future size. A small })iece of 



Ki;i;AJ. TASTK. 



0:3 



gj-oiiiid. wliic-h will uilmit ;i few ^■i-(M1[)s of tivcs and slii'uh.s, 
will not ))(' lU'sisi'iK'd as tliouii'li it wci'c to lie a [lark on a small 
scale. 

(looi! jiiilii'nient knows no minialui-c work of any kind ; it 
never desia'ns a feature, the disprojioi'tion and nselessness i)i 
whi('li are a})|)areut at first si_o-ht. Wiien di-awing tlu' lines of 
walks, it reekons on full u'rown ])(.'rs()ns. iu)t little cliildren. to 
make use of them. It is, howewr. a necessary and an ordi- 
nary praetice of })lantinu- the ^■roups of trees and shrubs 
denser than they can he when m th<'ir various sta,i;'es of devel- 
(»})ment. The calculation is made to tliin out ,i;-raduallv as 
vegetation may rei|uire increased s[)ace. Cluinps and groves 
thus closely [)lantcd will pi-oducc immediate effects wliicli 
coidd not l)e ex].)ecteil if only the nund)ei' which tinallv 
can stand on a certain spot should he planted at first. Tlu^ 
planter has it in Ins ])ower to create forthwith such effects as 
will foresliad<nv the future development o-f his grou[)s. I'emem- 
hei'ing howevei' "n hiilden [)ower at once his friend and foe — 
'tis vegetatio!!.'" 

Neckssitiks. Uoadways of ;iny kind, whether di-ivt^s or 
walks, must ever he i-()nsidered what they, are in I'calitv — 
necessities. Theii' nund)er and extetit will therefore he I'e- 
duced to the miiumum of necessity, never exceeding ac/tual 
use aiul utility. A useless walk is tiaily tlu' m<.)st useless thing 
on any place. Xot only economy in first construction, l)ut 
more so. economy and ease of perpetual maintenance of the 
gr(nind, should he the guide in this mattei'. 'I'he lines should 
always he <-h(»sen in accordance with the shaj»e of the ground ; 
should h(- drawn in graceful, easy cui'ves, avoiding, as far as 
))ossihle, sharp hends. wliidi always appear like clliows when 
seen from a certain ilistance. 'J'he lines selected for the I'oad- 
ways, together with the grade i'stahlishe(l for their su_rface. 
become the governing lines by which the surface of the ground 
is harmonized with the road gi'ade adopted. 'J'hc uiululatio)is 
of the groutid will explain and justify the choice of the line; 
the road, in other words, will ajipear as located just in the 
place wdiei'c the ••()nfornKition of the gi'onnd suggested it 
should be. This })leasing ett'ect cannot be produced unless all 
truces of the work of (^onstrnction are removed. Tlie cuts in 



94 RURAL TASTE. 

the surface, and fills above the natural surface, must be harmo- 
nized by gentle sloping of the ground, whereby the extremes, 
or cut and fill, are made to disappear. The same principle 
will be maintained in })lanting. The roadway may be made 
as running through a pleasant grove, or past some leading 
clumps or prominent single trees. All objepts along its way 
should reconcile its course. The art consists in a skillful 
hiding of the hand of art. 

Ars est cekire artem. 



THE HOME GROUNDS. 



••And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden : and 
there he put the man whom he had formed." — Gen. ii., 8. 

Simplicity of Desigx. Simplicity is the mother of l^eauty. 
This axiom of art and correct taste is learned from nature — 
whose ideal type of beauty is simplicity of form and of com- 
bination. The simplest scenes of the landscape made up of 
A'erdant grass and shading trees are ever most attractive to 
the mind longing for repose and (piietude — grass and trees 
become thus the indispensable companions of tlie rural home, 
in a material as well as in a mental sense, and are the princi- 
pal material of the improvei'. He seeks to imitate therewith 
the charming pastoral scenes of nature, which he has often 
silently admired. Avith a deepfelt wish to remove some of tlieir 
elements of beauty into the closest ])roximity of his home. 
This impulse inspires him in his efforts in the improvement 
and decoration of the limited space of ground which sur- 
rounds his residence. He feels the necessity of grateful shade 
to shield tlie homestead from the glaring sunshine of our 
summers, and realizes the imperative demand of protection 
against the storms and blasts of winter. The eye longs for 
the relief which only verdant grass can give, amidst the 
endless variety of sights of daily life. 



RURAL TASTE. 95 

Viewing the area destined to l)e tlie ornamental gronnd, 
most nsually called the front yard of the honse, two questions 
can be asked. The one is, what sylvan scene might nature 
have produced on this s})ot of ground ? The other is, how many 
different walks and fanciful l)eds of shrubs and flowers can be 
designed on this space ? A rational answer to the first ques- 
tion will suggest the adoption of the natural, tiie sim})le 
plan of imjjrovement. A wise answer of the second question 
will lead into experiments in the art of design, always certain 
of sharp criticism of the passing world, which tlie impi'ove]- 
has to take as good naturedly as he can. The result of the 
improvement made on the natural plan will be pleasing to 
everyljody ; will l)e admii-ed for its simplicty and trutli to 
nature. It stands on a basis on which all can agree and with 
which they will be pleased. Intrinsic truth to nature is the 
safest plan to be adopted, no matter how large or small the 
ground may be. The cori-ect judgment of the im])rover will 
readily decide how much to plant or what to remove from 
sight, while his artistic judgment will guide him in selecti(tn 
of how to plant and what to select for planting. He aims to 
produce a distinct scene made up of lawn and groups of trees 
or shrubs — rememliering the imperative necessity of Italance 
of light and shade. He tries to nuike the surface of the 
ground as pleasantly undulating as circumstances Avill permit, 
and to establish on it a luxuriant sward of grass. He operates 
throughout with the simplest material of decoration, shade 
trees and verdant grass. The scene produced will Ije pleasing 
to the eye, but its beauty may be increased by the judicious 
addition of bright flowers. 

Each rural home can be graced by this simple nn:)de of 
decoration. The material is used universally by all. The 
association, however, differs in many cases materially from 
the simple natural plan, displaying the fancies and notions of 
the different owners, which frequently fall short of the virtue 
of correct taste, pleasing to all. 

EcoxOMY. It is self evident that the sim})lest plan will 
likewise be the most economic one, both in regard to the first 
work of improvement, and to perpetual mainteiumce of the 



nt; RURAL TASTE. 

ground. A sniootli, well formed lawn, shaded by pleasing 
clumps (jf trees, and diversified by sharply defined groups of 
shrubs and flowers, is easily ke\)t in })erfect trim and order 
the year around ; it is indeed a thing of Ix'auty and joy forever. 
The actual work of improrement. when confined to the 
smoothening and gi'adiiig of the ground. ofiVring. tliereltv. 
all possible facilities to the gi-owth of a luxuriant stand of 
grass, is ii simple and easy one in almost all cases, i'e(piii-ing 
only oi-dinar\' good judgment useil by the farnu'r in cvei-y 
work of propel' tillage of the ground. He knows full well 
how to plow, to harrow, to roll and dress the ground so tluit 
it will produce a valuable crop. Let him but ust' the sanu' 
efforts in the ground surrounding his homestead, and a fine 
and inviting lawn will l)e tlu' natural I'esult. 'IMu' luxury, if 
such it may be called, (.'an be enjoyed l)y every family dwelling 
in tlie rural districts of the land, and every economic effort 
nuide in its l)ehalf, is labor bestowed on a worthy o))ject, the 
basis on which all further sfe})s in the decoration of the home 
grounil rest, and on whi(di they depend to fulfil their inten- 
tion. (ro()d judgment in cc-onomy will jirompt the improver 
to restri(,"t the design and construction of roads and walks to 
the basis of stern necessity solely. It will never pei'init the 
introduction of a j)urely useless feature, the ''(mstant main- 
tenance of which will be a perpetual ex})ense and annoyance. 
It will protluce the greatest degree of (^cmifoi't and convenience 
wrapped in a sim})le sylvan scene of grass and trees, for the 
least possible outlay of money, expended in original construc- 
tion and perpetual keei)ing. 

CoNr(iRl'lTY OF Parts is generally understood in all depart- 
ments of life, but strangely disregarded by numy in their 
grounds. It means everything in tbe right })lace. It implies 
tlnit o})jects should l)e rationally associated with eacli other, 
that deformed trees, the veiw <)pposite of decorative l)eauty, 
should not be retained in the ground devoted to the ornamen- 
tation of the homestead. Could a variety of objects, the very 
negatives of decoration, be silently removed from innumera])le 
grtninds. how great would the improvement be, how wonder- 
ful would be the relief to the eve of correct taste. Tlio good 



UrUAL TASTE. !)7 

judgment of tlii' iiitpi'dver makes, tliorcforc, a judicious selec- 
tion of evervthiiii;' that lia|)[)('iis to 1)C on the groinii]. removes 
all marring features, and prevents the introdiietio]! of any- 
thiiig tluit will he a contradietion to :dl around it in the 
nearest future. All planting is. therefore, done witli a view 
to the future — not as a nu'i'e amusement of the moment. 

The dilfereni-e in the ohject in view and in the manner of 
growth, existing between fruit aiul ornanu'ntal ti'ees. M'ill eon- 
vinee the improvei' that the former slnndd I)e planted in a 
j>laee where they can he pii'(»p)ei'ly eared for. and eultivated. 
and where they will safely yield their yearly returns to the 
household, without being exjjosed to the constant temptation 
of the outside world. Good judgment will decorate the fi'ont 
vai'(l with shade and oi'iuunental trees and shrubs, and keep 
all fruit-producing vegetation in the (hjmestic part of the 
premises, and will decide in how far utility can harmoniously 
an<l ratiinially be eo!id)iiU'(l with decoration. In gi'ounds of 
snudl extent, surrouu'ling pretentious residences and fronting 
on tlu' most fre(|uented highways, the effort of cond)ining 
profit and Ix'auty. is (|uite often a very futile experinu'nt. 
ending invariably in disa[)i)ointment and much vexation to 
the ownei'. True economy will ilraw a line of denuirkation 
between the two. will devote a ceitain area of tlu- gi'ound. 
however small it mav he. to oriuiment and use the balanci' of 
the ground to the puri)osi"S of urility. 

Rei.atiye PilorORTlox OF I'akts. The residence and the 
trees and ground sui'i'ounding it are involuntarily comi»aivd 
with each other. Their ixdative jjroportion is, thei'efore. the 
foremost consideration in ratioiud inqtrovement. Whatever 
has been said alio\-e on tlu' pi'incij)U' of l)alaiudng the staiulard 
of measure of height and extent of grcKind, finds its fullest 
ajiplication in this connection. Limiteil extent of grouiul is 
nu't by the improver's judgment in offering to the eye a scale 
of comparison by whicli it will appear in its greatest possible 
extent. Lines of graceful undulation and curves of lines of 
communication are used to wipe out the shortness of the 
mathematical true lines of measure. The tallest, most dis- 
proportioned trees are either removed, or reduced in height. 



98 RL'KAL TASTE. 

by Avhicli the uudue standard of measure is successfully coun- 
teracted. The tallest trees standing nearest the public road, 
Avliere they are most prominently seen, exercise naturall}^ a 
greater influence on the eye than those further in the interior 
of the place. The first attention is therefore paid to these 
leading factors of disproportion, and their removal or reduc- 
tion in height is demanded by the sternest rule of correct 
judgment. The force of this necessity is however often sadly 
ignored, and various other modes or experiments in imi^rove- 
ment are tried, which must of necessity utterly fail to give 
the desired relief so long as the true cause of disproportion is 
retained. More real, rational and economic improvement can 
be effected by the use of sound judgment in relative proportion 
than by any other line of argument, quite often far-fetched 
and erroneous in })rinci])le. 

Bai.axce of Light akd Shade. The improver divides 
the ground into light and shade, into lawn ami wood, to suit 
his preferences for either extreme. The suljject has been 
discussed at some length on a former page, and need not be 
repeated ; the impei'ative necessity, however, of a balance 
distinctly visible, and characteristic of the ground cannot too 
often be mentioned and attention called thereto. It is the 
line of demarkation ])etween art and mere 'guess-work in 
planting ; between sound judgment and the absence of rational 
consciousness in im})rovement. Balance of light and shade is 
the principle of expression, of beauty, of the landscape. 
Whv should it lujt be likewise the very soul of attraction of 
the home grounds, in which the moods of the mind are con- 
stantly formed, be they those of cheerfulness and pleasure, or 
gloominess and indifference to all around ? Are the home 
grounds not the educators of the mind ? Did the Creator 
place man in the garden for no other purpose than that he 
should eat and work therein ? 

Eoadw'AYS. The choice of lines of communication between 
the various parts of the ground, the roadways — be they drives 
or pedestrian walks — is governed as has been stated on a former 
page, by a preference for either mathematical or curved lines, 
accomodated to the natural shape of the ground. Attention 



RURAL TASTE. 99 

has then been called to the fact that mathematical lines are 
only suitable on level ground or under such conditions where 
tlie ground is artitically contormeJ to mathematical principles, 
and that the introduction of a straight roadway over undulat- 
ing ground, is a contradiction to the conformation of the 
surface, a marring feature therefore of the design, denoting 
a want of correct judgment and taste alike. Taste and 
economy choose in most cases the natural plan of design and 
improvement, aiul select the shortest possible and most 
advantageous route Ijetween the point of entrance and the 
house. In the small grounds ;dlotted to the duellings of 
towns, the adoption of a straight line from gate to front door 
of the house, is rptite often a matter of absolute necessity, 
and explains itself at first siglit to tlie eye of common sense. 
Tlie ground on either side of the straight Avalk may, in such 
cases, be shaped and planted on the natui-al plan and will, 
nevertheless, appear harmonious, although intersected by the 
straight walk. The apparent necessity excuses in this case 
the incongruity of the design. This rational excuse is, how- 
ever, lost the moment that it is manifest that another, a 
natural line, miglit have been chosen in the place of the 
straight one. In many cases a change is readily made possible 
by a change of the point of entrance removed from the point 
just opposite the front door of tlie house, and will invariably 
cause an increased appearance of extent of ground. When- 
ever possible the entrance should not l)e located opi>osite the 
front door. wherel)y the true scale of extent of ground 
between tlie house and entrance gate is removed. 

In grounds of larger extent tlie choice of the line of aji- 
2)roach is a very im})ortant feature of the design. It should 
in no case appear as a selection of a longer line than is really 
necessary. This reconciling evidence of necessity is demanded 
l\v correct judgment Avhicli recognizes each design of useless- 
ness or individual fancy as an evidence of doubtful taste. 
The approach to the liouse caJinot stop abruptly in its front, 
but must always show a graceful turn either to the rear jiart 
of the house, towards the stable, or into its main line for a 
return of vehicles. It should be spacious enough in all its 



100 RURAL TASTE. 

parts to facilitate easy and convenient driving. Its width 
sliould be proportioned to its lengtli and to tlie dimensions of 
the front of the honse. A contracted, nari'ow drive leading 
to a comnninding building is always a sign of very contracted 
views of con'ect taste. The entrance to a place should lie 
chosen to gain the most im})osing |)rospective view of the 
liouse at first sight when entei'ing. Where this is inipossil)le 
under surrounding circumstances, the approach road should 
strike in its course this favoi-able point of vision, and should 
appear as the most pleasant ami inviting line to the house 
which could have been chosen. 

The pedesti'ian walks, nuuh' necessary for communication 
with all points of the grouml. are desigueil with a view to 
convenience and to grace of curves : the use and necessity of 
each part theivfoiv should be [tlainly visilile : no useless twist 
or serpentine turn should betray the notion of the improver. 
Designed in this rational and artistic manner, they are leading 
ornaments of the design and factors of increased interest of 
the (jrnamental grounds. Devoid of tiie ])rotection of common 
sense, they are negatives of good jmlgment and refined taste. 

A discussion of the modes employed to locate the roadways 
(jn the ground, to establish their grade, and to construct and 
jn'operly drain the same, is beyond the object of these pages, 
being a legitimate branch of the art of civil engineering. 
()ne point, however, deserves special mention in this connec- 
tion. The lines of all roadways should be graceful curves 
and true parallels as far as their course permits an even width. 
At the point of interse(^tion with (^acli other the connecting 
points shoidd 1>e easily rounded off to show lU) stiff corners. 
The beauty of tlie ground will at all times de})end greatly on 
the sharpness an<l flowing grace. of the borders of the roads. 

The Shape of the Grouxd. Whatever has been said 
above on this subject applies in full force in this connection. 
The lines of roadways being chosen and brought down to the 
grades established for the same, the conformation of the 
ground is harmonized thereto, and gently undulating surface 
lines will thus connect the various parts of the lawji on wdiich 
the road will appear as located i]"i the lowest grade. The more 



KUKAL TASTE. lOl 

luitunilly undulating the lawn will ap])ear l)etween the borders 
of the roads, the greater will l)e its impression, denoting the 
highest degree of polish to which the ground could 'possil)ly 
be brought. The ueai'er. on the other hand, it reseml)le.s a 
flat piece of ground on wliich a few curved lines have l)een 
designed, the tamer and more ordinary will the ground ap})ear. 
An artist's talent in drawing graceful curves, either on })a}>er 
or on the ground, is not sufficient by any means to make liim 
an artistic improver of the ground, if lie has not also a full 
and practical knowle(lge of how to harmoidze the surface 
lines with the curved lines of the design. Much of the same- 
ness and ilatness of many so-c;illed ornamental grouiuls. arise 
from this dehciency in the designing liead. Plans on pa})er, 
though showy and highly colored they nniy 1)e. are useful 
therefore in most cases, only to a certain point. The real touch 
of beauty and the boldness of ai't cannot so easily be painted 
on papei'. but must be added dui'ing the progress of the work. 
Yet this is a })oiiit whicli many learned engineers. e(}ui})ped 
with a full sttjiply of instruments and field hands, refuse to 
acknowledge, though they know it well. 

The Gkoun'o Plax axd the Perspective View. The 
grounil })hni of a house shows the foundation wall of the 
building and the interior sidxlivision of the s})ace into various 
apartments, some of which are designed to be the living and 
reception rooms, whilst otliers are devoted to domestic pur- 
l>oses. The })lan of elevation conveys a clear idea of the 
architectural style and character of the structure. In the 
improvement of a given piece of gi'ound. the ground or work- 
ing plan denotes the lines chosen for tlie roadways, and grou})s 
of trees, shrul)S and llo^\•el•s. It is in reality the design of 
the ground which varies in endless variety of cases from the 
simplest lines of a plain grass i>lat, shaded by a few trees, to the 
elaborate, artistic design of _an extensive ornamental ground. 
Tlie perspective view of the ground, as seen from the outside, 
is made up of the house aiul the surrounding trees and lead- 
ing grou])S of shrubltery in the interior. The ground plan 
is made to suit the owner's tastes and preferences, and it is 
identical with the interior arrangement of the house, wdiich 



J 02 RURAL TASTE. 

in one sense belongs solely to the owner. The case is different, 
however, with the perspective sylvan view of the place and the 
architectnral character of the honse, in which the public is a 
part owner, in which it is at least quite prominently inter- 
ested. The many hoiises and the many sylvan masses make 
up the town or the rural districts, by the aspect of which the 
whole community is justly and correctly judged. The inter- 
ior of a mansion may be elegantly furnished, may hide rare 
treasures of art, yet if its exterior be common or unpretend- 
ing, the community is deprived of a certain degree of out- 
ward appearance of wealth and cultui-e. 

The same is true of the grounds, Avhich may be ricli in 
choice flowers and arboricultural treasures. Its sylvan out- 
lines, however, may be a wild mass of trees and intermixed 
foliage, in which no sign nor shadow of correct rur:il taste 
can be discerned by the outside world. The community is 
deprived in consequence again of a certain amount of enjoy- 
ment which wealth and culture would yield if <lirecte(l in a 
more public spirited channel. 

The Prixciple of Improvement. May the writer be 
permitted to call attention in this connection to the object of 
these pages, wliich is soleh^ a desire to lay before the intelli- 
gent members of the rural poinilation. a rational })lan by 
which the natural laws of vision, producing the conce})tions 
of that which is really seen, can be used by the mental power 
of correct judgment, to shape the scenic features which sur- 
round them on all sides. This is the simple meaning of 
improvement of the grounds surrounding the individual home 
and making up collectively the town or section of the country 
in which one lives. 

A clear knowledge of the principle of attraction exercised 
by nature upon the mind, we call artistic ideas. Correct 
judgment accommodates these ideas to the Avants of each 
piece of ground, on which a homestead is erected. The 
visible evidence of these ideas of the beautiful in nature, of 
art combined with the rational demand of utility, is what we 
express by the term Rural Taste, When the evidences of 
artistic ideas are wanting, then the outside world pronounces 



RURAL TASTE. 103 

the taste expressed, as uncultivated, as crude and low. It 
has been said above that nature's beauty is simplicity of form 
and combination. Grounds decorated with the sim})lest 
types, sylvan groups and verdant grass, are therefore the most 
beautiful likewise, and express true taste. True taste is in 
consequence not an evidence of ex})enditure, not tlie product 
of wealth, but can be expressed by all who improve their 
grounds, in the simplest mode by sylvan groups and verdant 
grass, the material used by all, for beauty as well as utility's 
sake alike. But let it be distinctly understood that the 
material is not its evideiujc, but the combination of the same. 

The owner of a pu^ce of ground accidently shaded by 
majestic trees, and covered with a verdant turf, cannot be 
considered a man of taste as long as he leaves his beautiful 
grove in such a state of nature as will indicate that he has 
never used any ratioiud judgment in the restoration of a 
natural l^alancc of relative pro})()rti(>u l)etween the various 
trees of his grove and the house and all around it ; nor that 
he has paid any regard to the rational demands of a balance 
of light and sliade ; nor that he has made the attempt to 
round off the accidental, stiff outlines of the masses of foliage. 
That man may buy llowers, or may })hait slirubberv to his 
heart's content, by which the surroundings of liis residence 
may be made highly onuimental and pleasant ; but so long as 
the perspective view of his place is naught but a broken parcel 
of the formei' forest, so long is the community depi-ived of a 
trace of scenic beauty, deprived of one evidence of rational 
improvement, so long will the outside world say that a taste- 
less man lives beneath the charming siuulc of tlie grove. 

Another man, the owner of a ti'celess tract of laiul, may be 
quite liberal in his use of the matei'iat of decoration, grass 
and trees; may use it as his imagination may dictate, creating 
thereby abundance of pleasant shade and profitable grass and 
hay, and by the assistance of these, a comfortable home in- 
deed. But what benefit does the intelligence of the community 
derive from his liberality in improvement ? It has to 1)0 
acknowledged that another tasteless num lives beneath the 
grove, whicli real enterprise and pluck have })roduced in a few 



104 RUKAL TASTE. 

years. It is another evidence that artistic ideas, combined 
with sound judgment, did not molest another prominent 
citizen. 

We can go from phice to })hice in sucli a town or neighbor- 
hood and notice all the pleasing evidences of Horal taste 
displayed by the ladies : we may be forced to commend the 
liberality of expenditure in improvements, we may admire 
the many elegant mansions of tiie leading men ; but we have, 
nevertheless, to acknowledge that the community has no 
conception of simple rural taste, though numy evidences of 
natural taste, possessed by individuals, may greet the eye. 

HoAV different is the impression made on the mind when 
visiting one of the many towns ami wiiles})read rural neigh- 
borhoods, where evidences of artistic ideas, pervading the 
improvements of the liumc grounds of the inhabitants, greet 
the eye on all sides, where the marring features of dispropor- 
tion, existing between the remnants of the past and the things 
of the living present, are removed. The former jirimeval 
forest is here recognized by the stately groves, in harmony 
with the houses wiiich rest in their genial shade, but happily 
the Avild confusion of trees of all grades, so very characteristic 
of every ac'cidental remnant of the woods, has vanished before 
the light of advancing culture. (Jlancing attentively over 
such a scene of art and utility combined, the eye will meet 
everywhere with distinct vsylvan outlines, with proper relative 
proportion of component [)arts. with groves and lawns, making 
a pleasing balance of liglit and shade, conditions of scenic 
beauty which every intelligent member of the community, 
Avilling to give the priiu'iple of correct taste a serious thought, 
can readily understaiul and use rationally. This is the mean- 
ing of ••Improvement." 

Applicatiox ux THE PiLVHiiE. Were it possible to com- 
pute the stupend(nis number of trees already planted and 
reared on the bleak and treeless plains of our country, one 
might but faintly realize the magnitude of the work of im- 
provement performed by the unconqueral)le energy of this 
agricultural and horticultural nation. But viewing on the 
other hand the al)solute necessity of protection from the 
excesses of the climate, the sternest necessity of powerful bar- 



HUKAL TASTE. K'5 

ricrs ;iguiii>>'t tlu' .storms and swee^^ing wiiid.s, the economic 
demand for fuel and material of eonstrnction. the impartial 
observer luis nevertheless to wonder at the insignificance of 
results thus far attained, when compared with the real wants, 
which stare the prairie ])eople in the face. Compare the 
number of homesteads, of smiling prairie farms, enjoying the 
blessing which only shading groves and private forests are 
able to bestow, to that of farms and houses singly, or collec- 
tively associated in villages and towns deprived of these 
benefits, by neglect and apatliy in this important branch of 
improvement, and lot us wonder for a moment at the decej)- 
tive nature of false utility : at the disregard of the }»lainest 
demands of rational utility, and at the absence of true solid 
comfort from the unprotected prairie home. But happily the 
spell of ignorance or disregard of the true wants of the })rairie 
home is nearly 1)roken ; a more enlightened horticultural day 
is daAvning for the western states. The energy of the people 
in behidf of theii' best interests is fairly aroused. The 
pioneers in tree })lanting luive done a noble work and their 
example is being imitated by the masses. Tlie endless numl)er 
of un[)rotected homes motto-day. will in a coming generation 
be a remom1)rance only of tlio ])ast, reidaced l)y homes enjoy- 
ing all the benefits which the fertile soil and a higher mental 
culture is aide to ])roduce. 

The intelligent farmer is a('<|uainted with all the material 
benefits of the timber belt. lie knows its infiuonce on the 
real comfort of domestic life, as well as on the fruitfulness of 
the orchard and the widosjiroad field. The most economic 
mode of planting and (-ultivating is generally understood, dis- 
cussed and practiced. The belt, howeve]', is planted in straight 
})arallel lines, adopted for the sake of convenience of cultiva- 
tion. It produces a wall of boughs and foliage, whicdi serves 
the purposes of utility for which it is intended. Its scenic 
appearance, however, is stitf and unnatural ; like any other 
roAV of trees })lanted by the hand of a tasteless num. it pos- 
sesses only the minimum of sylvan beauty. A piece of ground 
thus protected looks as if fenced off, or l)arricaded from the 
outside world. It is a contradiction to the principle of scenic 
beautv. The section of the prairie country in which these 



lOG RURAL TASTE. 

square sylvan walls surround the individual homesteads of the 
people appears, in consequence, as well supplied with the de- 
mands and improvements of utility, but neglected by the 
designing hand of rural art and progressive taste. Is there 
a practical plan within the easy reach of every farmer l)y 
which this difficulty can be reduced at least, if not entirely 
overcome, by which the sylvan barrier against the inclemen- 
cies of the climate can be made ornamental as well as highly 
useful? We answer, tlie way is a very plain and simple 
one. The straight line can easily be apparently wiped out 
by the addition of a clump or proportioned mass of trees 
planted here, and in front of it. The outline of the foliage 
becomes tliereby a broken one, losing its indwelling principle 
of the hedge, and assuming the natural form and sylvan 
variety of the margin of the native forest. A belt planted 
with an irregular outline need not necessarily occupy nuire 
ground, nor require additional care or painstaking in cultiva- 
tion, than the straight line. Its utility will be the same, but 
its scenic beauty, as seen from the outside of the place and by 
the outside world, will be greatly increased. It v;ill be an 
evidence of an artistic idea combined with the demands of 
strict utility — a rational, progressive im})rovement. 

Think of the magical change which might be effected in 
the aspects of the most flourisiiing districts of the prairie 
states in which the lines and squares of cottonwood trees and 
Lombardy poplars surrounding the many homesteads, greet 
the eye in all directions. Suppose these sylvan surroundings 
of the home were planted on tlie simple, natural plan, as 
continuous groves and thickets, diversified by clumps and 
single trees sprung up in connection tlierewith, here and 
there. How cliarming and forest-like would these homesteads 
be I H::)\v ehxiuently would they ex[)ress the rati(»nal and 
refined rural taste of their inhabitants I 

Ground, of wluitever extent, devoted to the domestic pur- 
poses of the farm, be they those of the household or of the 
department of domestic animals, can be transformed from a 
treeless state of nature into a securely protected, pleasantly 
shaded and attractive sylvan scene ; a true oasis of shade and 
comfort in the wilderness of light, of sunshine and of wind. 



RURAL TASTE. l(t? 

prevailing on the plain. Protecting and decorating trees are 
ever the first landmarks of the newly erected homestead of 
the settlers of the prairie. They are the material of civiliza- 
tion and of art. Why should they not be planted on every 
prairie farm ? And why should the natural conditions under 
which they will produce the greatest degree of scenic beauty 
be ignored and counteracted where they are planted? This is 
a very simple question which has often been asked, yet a very 
important one, when viewed in the light of true, unprejudiced 
intelligence and reason. The answer would open a widely ex- 
tended vista into the possibilities of the future. 

The art to which we owe the parks and pleasure grounds of 
both continents whose footprints are visible in all the graceful 
suburbs of the cities, and in the endless chain of rui'al 
improvements stretching throughout the length and breadth 
of our country, offers its services likewise to the tree-planting 
prairie farmer, Iioping to gain its greatest triumph yet on the 
western plains, where groves and forests are more sadly 
needed tlian anywhere in the wooded sections of the land. 
He is deeply interested in the question of how to supply the 
pressing demands of timber, fuel, shade and protection against 
the wi]ids and storms. 8ome doubt the feasibility of a union 
of art and utility on so great a scale ; forgetting, however, 
rationally to separate the two objective points of landscape 
gardening, of wliicli one is tlie design and decoration of the 
ground, the other tlie creation of distinct sylvan features ; 
the one is ornamental (jardenliKj, the other is practical and 
artistic landscape plantin;). The farmer is but little inter- 
ested in the art of design, and of ornamental horticulture, 
by wJiich the polished and enchanting pleasure grounds of 
wealth are made, l)ut he is deeply concerned in forest planting. 
The artistic ideas of landscai)e gardening are not only I'eason-- 
ably admissible, but indespensably necessary in the fornuition 
of his plan of operation, if he desires to move in harmony 
W'ith the laws of progression freely adopted in almost evei-y 
department of domestic and public life. The question is not 
one of the designing art of gardening but of rational plant- 
ing, in the results of wdiich tlie present generation and its 
posterity are materially interested. It is a strife for independ- 



108 RURAL TASTE. 

ence from the casualties of .surrounding nature; a fight in 
whieli the human family has long been engaged. The greater 
the degree of development of the resourses of the plains, 
bringing in its train an almost magical increase of pO})ulatiou, 
the sterner will be the demands of necessity ; the louder will 
1)e the appeal to the intelligence of the people to devise the 
wisest and most feasible plan of snj)plying the missing 
elements of happiness and prosperity. Agricultural science 
and })ulitiral economy are e<[iially interested in the solution of 
this problem, which can only bi^ based on nature's willingness 
to bring forth the missing, the sadly-needed trees, wherever 
the enterprise of human hands nuiy indicate tlie •s})ot on 
which they should grow wlien [jroyx-rly planted and cared for 
by that all-powerful agency. 

The j)rairic farm is the ground on which the true mission of 
the art of landscape planting, not of gardening, will be 
demonstrated by the intelligence of an agricultural people, of 
owners of the fertile soil on which they live. The progress of 
development and dissemination of this art must be <in entirely 
different one from that which has bi'ought forth the famous 
rural ])arks of England and continental Europe, wliich 
luitui'ally have no relation to any of the systems of American 
husbiiiidry. l->ut notwithstantling tlu' wide difference exist- 
ing between the })eople and the jjossessions of both continents, 
one rational lesson can be learned of the })arks of Euro])e, 
which when fully c(Uiij)rehended will lead the in(|uirer di- 
rectly into the secret of the cause, the etfects of which he calls 
•'scenic beauty." Making this cause the basis of his opera- 
tions in tree-planting, he cannot fail to attain its legitimate 
results likewise. M'hereby the smiling prairies of the west 
would be electrified by a magic battery of sylvan beauty, of 
true western rural taste. 



PUBLIC IMPK0VEMEXT8. 



AVe luive eiidcuvured to draw ;i distinct lint' of scparatiou 
()etweeii tlie natural results of each individual eit'ort in the 
improvement of i;i'ounds. We have seen that one effect is 
the design and inside decoration of each individual piece of 
ground. im})roved. the other is the persiiective view of the 
ground, of its l)uildings, and its trees, in Avhich the com- 
munity at large is principally interested. 

The scenic aspects of a town, or of a section of country in 
which many })eo})le live, are in consequence in great measure 
dependent on, and sha})ed by the individual taste of the vari- 
ous owners of the real estate of the area, and for the same 
logical reason no locality can present a really tasteful a])})ear- 
nnce, pleasing and inviting to all, whose citizens are ignorant 
of the fundamental princi})les on which scenic Ijeauty rests — 
and without wliich it cannot exist. A certain degree of 
artistic intelligence must, therefore, pervade the jiublic mind, 
before the evidences of artistic ideas can greet the eye of the 
outside world. This intelligence is the governing power of all 
})ublic improvements : in its ;U)sence a (3ommunity is easily 
led astray. For this reason some men can palm themselves 
off as leaders and executors of rural taste, avIio would ])etter 
be paid to stay at home and hold their petice. 

The Pubtjc Stkeets. It is the universal custom to decor- 
ate the streets with shadii\g trees, planted at certain distances 
along the line wliich separates the driveway from the side- 
walk. This decoration and protection of the i)ublic thorough- 
fares, is in most cases a voluntary contribution of the owner 
of the property to the pn])lic welfare and to the scenic beauty 
of his toAvn. The generality or scarcity of this evidence of 
intelligent enterprise is a true index of the spirit dwelling 
within the community and the visitor grades thereby, invol- 
untarily his opinion of the people. A uniform volume of 



110 RURAL TASTE. 

pleasant shade, denotes a uniform distribution of intelligence 
and liberality of impi'ovement ; a broken line of shade trees 
speaks of the indifference and selfishness of the many citizens, 
Avho carelessly neglect or refuse this universal contiibution to 
the public comfort. A beautifully shaded street, or town is, 
therefore, inviting to all minds, while its negative acts in the 
opposite direction. In some communities the prevailing spirit 
of enterprise forces all alike to comply with tliis public need ; 
in others where no such animus exists the public good is con- 
sidered an imaginary idea which no one is bound to respect. 
The decoration of public highways by befitting sliade trees is 
thus a matter of far more importance than many conservative 
people are willing to believe. It expresses cleai'ly the nature 
of the material which makes u}) the community. 

The visitor will next view the fronts of the various grounds 
in which the houses stand. By their appearance he is enabled 
to guess at every owner's taste and correct judgment. The 
eye is occupied by two objective visions,, the line which separ- 
ates tiie property from the street, and prominent objects along 
it, in consequence closest to the eye. On a level site, as in 
most of the prairie towns, the surface of the street and of the 
inside of the ground has a nearly uniform height. The front 
fences can thus show no great variation in elevation. Their 
uniformity is pleasing to the eye as it expresses system and 
order, an indis])ensable attribute of every well regulated 
town. This rule of uniformity is quite frequently intei-rupted 
by a higher piece of ground, whose fence is set on tlie higher 
level, on a broken, neglected bank of ground. This very 
piece of ground, no matter how many very 2)retty tilings may 
be in its interior, is the marring feature of that block. Its 
owner has neglected to slope the front sufficiently to set the 
fence on a level with the sidewalk, ' Small as this ditference of 
opinion in improvement may appear, it is nevertheless the 
cause of much discord in the appearance of the street. This 
case may serve as a type of the immense mischief done to 
the otherwise very pleasant view from many streets, where the 
front fences stand on the top of rough banks of clay. The 
plainest consideration of correct judgment would, if indulged 



RURAL TASTE. Ill 

in, convince th^ir owner-s of the negative of improvement and 
taste represented by their })ro})erty. 

In all towns Ijuilt on nneven ground, these differences of 
elevation vary indefinitely and must often be overcome liy 
strong retailing walls. An enlightened view to })ul)lic im- 
provement will prompt tlie owners to harmonize as far as 
possible these inequalities of tlic ground. An obstinate, inde- 
pendent action of one individual causes quite often serious 
damage to the appearaiu/e of the adjoining property. Passing 
mention may here l)e made of the source of uns|)eakal)le 
mischief done to very many towns l)y the adoption of the 
original design of the plat, nuide in former years in accord- 
ance with the stereotyped rules of rectangular engineering, 
but in utter disregard of the natural shape of the town site. 
Many such towns have gone through a useless process of cut- 
ting and filling, in other Avords, have been engineered to 
death. The sensiljle plaus of many suburbs of larger cities 
and modern rural towns, designed in conformity with the 
ground on which they are to be Ijuilt, are tokens of a return 
from antiquated, dogmatic ideas to the practical and artistic 
common sense of our day. 

The tallest objects nearest to the sidewalk are next viewed 
by the eye and naturally coni})ared with the relative propor- 
tion of all around. What are these objects? The answer is 
they are the unnumbered, crooked, leaning, deformed locust 
trees and other disproportioned, half decayed remnants of 
the original forest which stand along the front fence of so 
many places. These are the true factors of discord in the 
scenic appearance of innumerable tasteful towns, whose 
inhabitants would consiiler it almost a criminal act even to 
think, much less to speak openly, of the removal of some of 
the useless trees. Could many well-meaning jjcople be but 
persuaded to consider calmly the simplest rules of relative 
pro})ortion of things of the past and things of the present, a 
line of wholesome argument might be opened with them, by 
which the aspects of their town would be greatly improved. 
But as tastes will differ widely, the trees have to remain, and 
the town is deprived of an important touch of public improve- 
ment. 



1V> KUKAL TASTE. 

Public Sql'akes. The improvement of the public squares 
reserved to public use, by a wise foresight to the future, in a 
majority of towns of the Western states, is generally a subject 
of much discussion and great diversity of opinion. A certain 
(ilass of citizens consider this public ground nominally, a free 
l)lay -ground for everybody, whilst in reality they have a prac- 
tical view to utility, and do uot wish to see their cows deprived 
of so pleasant a })iil)lif walk ami pasture. Another class, and 
happily in most cases the majority of the conimuuity. takes 
a more enlightened view and wishes to improve the s(juare. 
The ground is thus fenced and a number of shade trees are 
}>lanted, solely with a view that they should form in time a 
pleasant canopy of shade overliead. This is the condition in 
whicii we hnd most of the public squai'es of the Western 
towns. The question of improvement shoultl be considered 
as indicated above, strictly as a question of the design of the 
ground and as one of the formation of the future })erspective 
view, which the trees will present to the })erpetual sight of 
the community, from all ])arts of the town. It is evident 
that this consideration is far moi'e important than the little 
(pieiT how the walks and passage ways from owv corner to the 
other should be designed. 

A rational choice of the ilesign of the ground plan depends 
on the size and location of tiie ground and on innumerable local 
circumstances and conveniences, and no general suggestions 
can be offered outside the recommendation of correct judg- 
ment in all nnitters of real convenience or absolute necessity, 
and in the reasonable denninds of relative proportion of road- 
ways and general area of the ground. In some cases the 
adoption of straiglit lines may be (femanded by common 
sense. In others curved lines will find a very suitable a})plica- 
tion in which, however, one point should never be forgotten. 
A curved walk, no matter how prettily it may look, will always 
be disregarded in public grounds, if it is not likewise the most 
direct and convenient line from one important point to the 
other. The public will have the shortest way ; and if not 
made by art the daily traffic will make it across the lawn. 
The simplest and most commodious plan of design is therefore 
ahvays the best, since it has tlie natural advantage of lieing 



ItURAL TASTE. 113 

easily kept in order ; and thi.-^ is i^iniply imi)<)ssible wlien the 
roads are not eonvenient as well as oi-namental. Tlie con- 
stnietion of roadways is quite frequently deferred to a future 
day. and can l)e done at any time wlien tlie ])ul)]ic is prepari'd 
to order the work to he done. Tlie plantinii' of trees. re<[uir- 
ing years for tlieir development, is l)y far the most important 
initial step of the improvement. 

Citizens taking an interest in the general })i'osperitv of tlieir 
town can render an active sei'vice in tlie cause of tlie })ul»]ic 
s(|uare by studying and discussing the question how the 
perspective view shouhl look ; what outlines the trees should 
present in tlu' Ijlue light of tlu' sky. ni wliicli they will l)e seen 
in all directions. The folly of making one solid mass of shade 
'^t the whole area will be plain to every mind ; each will see. 
therefore, the (^orres}>onding folly likewise of planting a 
chance lot of trees all over the ground. " Where will the 
leading grou}) of shade be most approiJi-iate? Where should 
the clumps and groves of trees Ite })lanted? " will naturally be 
the first questions asked. The improvement will in this wise 
become a subject of public interest, ainl will assist in dissemi- 
nating artisti<* ideas among people, win* may have never looked 
at matters of ti'ee-]ilanting in that light. Public improvements 
whenever rationally coiulucted always attract the attention <if 
the community and are a powerful lever for the elevation of 
correct taste. The most philaiitiiro})ic citizen should foi' this 
reason take an active part in their design and management. 

T^he choice of the spaces where trees are to grow is thus the 
hrst step in the improvement of the public ground. It is made 
in reference to the distinct pi'rs}>ective outlines of the trees, 
and as to a due l)alance of light or lawn and shade trees. 
Two indispensaljle conditions of a pleasing picture, clearness 
of outline and l)alance of liglit and shade, are thus secured. 
The next question to Ije decided is that of variety. Referring 
to what has l)een said on this suliject, no one will feel tempted 
to till the ground with elms and soft maples solely, as is so 
universally done. A certain reasonable variety of types of 
trees^ distinct in hal)it and form and color of foliage, will be 
selected and })rocured. which will make up the sylvan beauty 
of the place. The trees will not lie })lanted at such distance 



114 RURAL TASTE. 

as they may require in 10 or 20 years in the future, but a 
greater number than eventually needed will l^e procured and 
2)lanted, by which each group appears in bold relief from the 
very first. As vegetation increases the weakest specimens can 
be removed from time to time. The surface of the ground 
can be smoothed, and stocked with a luxuriunt stand of grass, 
and thus, in the very heart of a progressive town, a simple 
sylvan scene of nature is created, whose beauty and attraction 
Avill increase from year to year. A'iewing the often sadly 
vexed question of improvement of public grounds from this 
rational basis, its successful solution is within the easy reach 
of any intelligent community : and placing the cause of })ublic 
rural improvements on tiiis natural ground, its ])opularity in 
all rural communities will be increased correspondingly. 

The mode of fencing and protecting public grounds, de- 
serves passing mention. There was a time wlien a high and 
showy enclosure was considered the most prominent ornament 
of a place. The same principle held true with the safety of 
the interior of houses. The windows of banks and business 
houses were, therefore, barricaded by tight shutters to keep 
the l)urglars out ; but also to prevent the police from peepmg 
to the inside when a thief had entered by the back door or the 
chimney. In like mainiei- was it customary in the leading 
cities to surround the public squares with high and costly iron 
or wooden railings, which served during the night time as a 
safe hiding place for the vicious. Tlie blessing which the 
little parks yielded in daytime was tliereby greatly neutralized 
by vice at night, thus making the moral value of public places 
very jiroblematic with many citizens. We have learned, how- 
ever, that safety is not promoted by darkness in any'form, but 
can only exist in tlie light. The unsightly, high enclosures of 
parks and public squares have, therefore, nearly altogether 
disappeared. In places where stock is not permitted to range 
at large and ruin everybody's property, the public squares are 
open, protected by the good sense of the people. Where 
cattle are allowed to roam, fences sufficiently high to keep 
them out are a stern necessity. Their height and importance 
should, however, never exceed the real need; should always be 
low enough to permit a full view over the ground. The same 



RURAL TASTE. 115 

principle of safety should i)e oliserved in regard to the shrub- 
bery selected for plantinu'. In puldic places open at all hours 
of the night no dense groujis of shrubbery should ever be 
j)ermitted ; the sylvan decoration sliould consist solely of clean, 
stemmed trees, amidst which the ground can be seen from all 
directions. Public safety demands this sacrifice of liorticul- 
tural variety and decoration. 

The Court House Hc^uare is under the control of thi-ee 
different dignitaries, the janitor, the county judges, and the 
supervising architect. The old axiom that an ounce of })re- 
ventiou is worth a pound of cure is literally true in this case. 
The fewer attem])ts at ornamentation of ground surrounding 
a stately public building, are uiade l)y these parties, the Ijetter 
will the good taste of the pul)Iic l)e pleased. The ap})roaches 
to the building from all sides should be direct and comnuj- 
dious, in harmony with tlie size of the building. ISTo small, 
insignificant walks should ever be }»ermitted, though very 
frecpiently such are seen. The })lainest rule of relative pro- 
portion condemns all such modes of improvement. The shade 
trees should not be planted in orchard form, but should be 
united into distinct clumps, in wliich they will form a pleasing 
sylvan relief to the buililing. The grass ])lats should be 
smooth and neatly kept. In their maintenance and perfect 
trim the janitor can display an abundance of good taste, thus 
gaining the good will of the whole community. 

The Grouxds of State Institutions surrounding in 
most cases the grandest works of the art of architecture which 
a state possesses — deserve assuredly a more liberal and artistic 
treatment than they receive in many instances. It is a 
humiliating thought to the truly })rogressive western mind to 
see evidences of crudeness in artistic conceptions in the im- 
provement of the grounds of public institutions, which in the 
oldest, the most developed states of the union, would simply 
be a laughing stock. It is sad to see the natural primitive 
advantages wasted, sometimes really spoiled and counter- 
acted, to observe planless and senseless tree planting, showing 
an utter disregard of the future ; all solely for the reason that 
some one, happening to be in office wielding certain execu- 



116 RURAL TASTE. 

tives powers, should uecidentally be ignorant of the' simplest 
principles of the art of design and rational improvement of 
ground. How many elements of true development and pro- 
gress of the younger states are thereby disregarded, deferred 
to the more enlightened days of the future. l)y which delay 
much valuable time and advantage are lost. The intellet-tual 
(Hilture of the nation is not divided by certain sectional state 
lines ; it pervades tlie leading minds alike, no matter in what 
part of the country they may reside. Why should the evi- 
dences of practical artistic culture ])e so Hagrantly c<»ntrasted 
in certain parts ? The simple answer to this question is found 
in the strange pt'culiarity nf luiman nature, that a little 
knowledge is a dangerous thing. Its })ossessors fancy that they 
are on the very pinnacle of culture wlien once in office, while 
in reality they are only ])eginning to climl) the ladder of true 
distinction. Men highly cultured in one direction, will thus 
suppose themselves to br L-qual to every lu'anch of art : aiul 
thus the ground, which can most easily l)e imjjroved by grass 
and trees gets generally the worst in the ])argain between 
autliority and genuine art. 

Parks, })ublic grounds, designed for the ivcreation and 
pleasure of the population of large cities, living constantly 
between high piles of brick and mortar, arc indispensable 
public improvements of all cities, claiming mctro})i>litau rank 
and culture, and are demanded not oidy for tlie licaltii aiul 
welfare of the people l)Ut also as ah attraction and l)oon foi' 
the outside world. The first example set by Xew York, tlie 
metroj)olis of the country, in the creation of Central Park has 
found universal imitation by nearly all the leading cities of 
the country. Extensive systems of 2)arks and connecting- 
drives, the so-called l)oulevards,. encircling a wide circumfer- 
ence of territory have been adopted by vai'ious cities of the 
east and west, some of which are ))roportioned to the financial 
condition of their respective communities, whilst others are 
exponents only of the extravagant pretensions of certain 
cities, wdiich will require many years of the future to come to 
full realization, A discussion of this subject is entirely out- 
side the object of these pages, as it would lead the reader to 
matters in which he is not interested and which miaht make 



KUKAL TASTK. 117 

him iicqu aintccl with some of the secrets of mnnieipul polities 
amidst which his ardor for the modest })ublic improvements 
of his rural town miglit be materially checked. 

Mention should, howevei-, lie made of the most powerful 
lever and promoter of all })ul»lic improvement, which is 
systematic org-anization and intelligent co-operation. X few 
minds enlightened 1)y correct rural taste, and endowed with 
natural energy required to impress others in the same direction, 
can (1(1 a great missionary work in every community, on the 
same basis on which })rogression in all departments of life is 
ma<le. Progressive citizens are wont to discuss nuitters of 
})ublic improvement in order to convince the multitude of 
the material benefits resulting from the same. Organi- 
zations for the encouragement of tree planting along the 
public streets are fcmnd in many wide-awake towns, by 
which the most satisfactory results are attained. This same 
promoting jiower miglit extend its usefulness in evei-y live 
prairie town and cause groves and forests to spring forth from 
many grounds which are often begging for a rational use to 
be made of them. The pleasant villages sprung up on the 
plains, can readily and very cheaply be graced by pul)lic 
groves and little forests, whose genial shade would l)e most 
acceptal)le to all their sun and wind-afHicted inhal)itants. and 
hints of invitation to the visiting stranger. Each prairie 
town should have its public groves, whereby not only the 
comforts of inhabitants, l:)ut also the scenic features of their 
whole locality would be gi-eatly imi)roved. Examples might 
be given to prove the magic intiucnce exercised l)y a few 
far-seeing, pul)lic-s})irited men, with whom intelligent com- 
munities are sometimes l)lessed. Will such not give this 
passiuL!' suggestion a serious thought and imagine for a moment 
what results might l)e secured by a timely, energetic action in 
so philanthropic a cause, by which their names would l)e 
handed down to coming generations, and blessed beneath the 
shady groves called into existence l)y their good will towartl 
their fellow-men ? 

In some communities, howevei', the men are too busy 
talking, (another word would be more appropriate), and here 
true womanhood will show its pluck, and take the matter of 



118 RURAL TASTE. 

tree planting in hand — that is to say, force, or if need be, 
sinime their bnsy Inisbands into action. Mnch of the comfort 
and decoration of the home gronnd is directly dne to the 
exertions of the female portion of the family. Why should 
they not likewise help the good cause of public, sylvan im- 
provements ? Why should not the noble examples, whicli 
might in this connection be freely quoted, be multiplied, and 
be universally followed throughout the Western towns ? 

The ladies of many communities of southern cities surpass 
perhaps in executive energy their sisters of the north. The 
monuments erected by a patriotic impulse of love of native 
soil, owe in great measure their existence and tasteful sylvan 
surroundings directly to the determined business tact of the 
women, who undaunted by the indifference of the men, set 
energetically to work to make a full i-eality of a cherished 
project, without wasting years to talk about the subject. 
They are in consequence the leading advocates of the modern 
rural improvements of their charm ing towns and newly 
revived cities. 



THE GROUNDS OF IX8TITUT10NS OF EDUCATION 



"How beautiful they stand, 
Those temples of our Lord : 
The beauties of our native place. 
The bulwarks of our land." 

This stanza of a favorite hymn aj)})lies alike to the institu- 
tions of education and to the houses of public worship. Both 
are the true bulwarks of the land and nation, whose welfare 
and prosperity rest on tlie mental intelligence and moral 
virtue of its people. Each detail, however modest or insignfi- 
cant it may appear, but which may be caj)able of serving and 
of assisting the cause of popular education, should he deemed 
of sufficient importance to be considered, and if found worthy 
of recognition in instruction, to be fostered by those in whose 



RURAL TASTE. 119 

htiiids are placed the mighty interests involved in tlie educa- 
tion of the most enlightened nation of mankind. The ques- 
tion may, therefore, appropriately be asked in tliis connection. 
Has tlie condition, the outward appearance of tlie gi-ound 
surrounding an edifice of education, large or small, any 
rational connection with the training of tlie minds, going on 
m the interior? We have met the same quei-y when consider- 
ing matters of educated taste in their relation to the interior 
and exterior of the residence of the individual citizens ; we 
meet here again on ground solely devoted to the education of 
the people. We have seen that evidences of cultured taste 
cannot exist where the rational relation of interior and exter- 
ior of the home is denied or disregarded ; that the public is at 
a loss to know whether refined taste exists within, if not visi- 
ble outside also. We have seen that whei'ever aesthetic culture 
is most general, its outward evidences are most general also, 
producing the most attractive aiul refined home districts. 
The exterior appearance of the edifice of education must 
therefore be, to a certain degree, an index of the spirit that 
dwells and governs within. The exterior is made U}) of the 
outward a])peai'am'e of the liuilding and the surrounding 
grounds. All know that the liuilding represents only a cer- 
tain amount of money expended in its erection and a cei-tain 
degree of arehitectual skill possessed by the designer and 
builder. Tiie educator can lay no claim to the credit of 
either. Tiie snri'ounding grounds, however, are a direct test 
of his conceptions of the taste which governs all grades of 
educated society, amidst which his ])upils are at home, ;nid 
to which they return when tln'ir course of education is 
completed. The authority which governs the educational 
institution is in consequence correctly judged l)y- the facilities 
which it furnishes to the process of education, administered 
by the various educators in its employ. In order to answer 
the al»ove question, we have to view the true ol)ject of all' 
school training. It is a two-fold one. A child is sent to 
school to learn two distinct things: to learn the lettei-s and 
figures on which all knowledge is based, and to secure the 
discijiline or compliance with certain rules, on which society 
rests and depends for its welfare. One is a process of tilling 



1:^0 KCKAL TASTE. 

the mind with abstract knowledge of certain facts; the other 
is a process of drawing out, of convincing of certain mental 
powers, with which the individual mind is endowed. Here is 
the point where all the ditference in certain modes of training, 
and in the result of the different systems comes in. Educa- 
tion is a 2)rocess of tilling in and of drawing out the facul- 
ties of the mind. The mind is tilled with various branches 
taught in the school; it is trained and developed by the S3'stem 
of order, obedience and good behavior, governing the school. 
One process makes the scholar, the otiier forms the citizen, 
Tlie neatness, cleanliness and decoration of whate\er kind of 
the interior, lay the foundation of the cultured refined taste 
of society ; the condition of the exterior of the school, be it 
neat or slovenly, lays the foundation of tlie outside, tlie rural 
taste of the people, which shapes the asi)ects of the country, 
which decoi'ates the home, which builds the prosperous town 
and city. There is a real, a rational connection l^etween the 
school ground and the mind of the pu})i]; its influerice for 
good or evil can be seen by everyone willing to reason impar- 
tially on the subject. Could we compute the number of times 
tlie scholar passes througii the sciiool ground the year around, 
then we should know how many times his mind is impressed 
by what it sees for weal or woe to tiie public taste. Majestic 
oaks from little acorns grow ; in like manner grow mighty 
influences from the sights seen daily in the school. 

The yard of every schoolhouse of the land can have, at 
least as the minimum of culture, cleanliness and neatness, a 
condition on which much of the educ.ition of mankind de- 
pends. Each citizen elected as a school director or trustee, 
should be sworn into otiice on condition of his compliance 
witli this fundamental dennind of civilized society. Advanc- 
ing one single step in rational im}»rovement, it will ])e seen 
that a cleanly kept yard can very readily and cheaply be 
greatly improved in a})pearance by the addition of a group or 
two of befitting shade trees where they may Ijc missing. 
AVhere the ground is naturally shaded by trees a judicious 
selection can be made between the really ornamentah and 
useful ones, removing the deformed and useless ones. The 
natural grove receives thereby a touch of improvement which 



RURAL TASTE. 121 

distinguishes it forthwith from a wild, uncultivated jn-oduct of 
nature ; a constant lesson to scholars. We hear the flinisY 
excuse for the absence of all ini}n-ovenients from the school- 
house ground, that there is no use to set out trees, as the hoys 
would tear them down, and thev would l)e in the way of the 
l)lay of the children I Trees will surely ]»e in the way and 
will he overrun, when injudiciously planted. Common judg- 
ment, often a])sent in such cases, will readily determine where 
they are not in the way. where they should he })lanted. and 
as for the unruly dis}>osition of the l)oys, they can readily l)e 
taught to respect every article of pul)lic improvement, as on 
this lesson depends much of tlie safety of our communities. 
A judicious system of imjjrovement of the puldic grounds 
of school houses will have in consequence its many beneficial 
influences, not only on the youth l)ut on the old. who have 
failed to imbibe good taste when young. 

But let us look at the question from an artistic point of 
view. To do so we have to go to academies and colleges devoted 
t(.) the higher education of the female sex. The edifices are 
mostly commanding buildings erected on beautiful and well 
chosen sites, in many cases shaded by majestic forest trees. 
The interior is elegantly furnished: culture and art and elegance 
are fairly enthroned therein. But what of the exterior, the 
ground seen constantly by the young ladies, on Avhitdi they 
promenade and ramljle in leisure hours? With tlie exception 
of a few highly honorable examples, the products of correct 
taste and good judgment cond^ined. we find most of these 
grounds the warning evidences of contradiction of art knowl- 
edge and culture, of everything })rofessed and taught inside 
the Iniilding. Some are wild, uncultivated, shabbily fenced 
pasture lots, the very eye-sores of theii' town, instead of l^eing 
the l)eauties of their native })lace. In others, a vain attempt 
at ornamental gardening is painfully visible, denoting the 
crude horticultural ideas of some professor or other enlight- 
ened friend of the institution. The principal acknoAvledges 
that the grounds are not as they might l)e, and as they will be 
made when some one furnishes more money : but for the 
present the funds are short and all are needed inside for the 
mental culture of the fair pupils ; and all this bliiul disregard 



122 RURAL TASTE. 

of the plainest axioms of rational taste which rules the- 
present day, in the pretended name and interest of higher, 
of enlightened education of the female sex I 

Now let us turn from such mistakes of practical education 
to one or the other of the honorable exceptions of the rule. 
We find ourselves on a well kept lawn, shaded by clumps of 
trees diversified by some groups of flowering shrubs, graced 
by a few pleasant beds of flowers. The roads and walks are 
drawn in graceful curves, they are smooth and well con- 
structed, bordered by sharp and pleasing lines. There is no 
extravagance of expenditure visible anywhere ; all is ])lain, 
simple, beautiful and pleasing. We are invited to the inside. 
The rooms are well furnished and liberally decorated with 
specimens of art and lesthetic culture of the home. The 
outside grounds form a befitting foreground to the interioi-. 
Here is the home of harmony and of correct taste ; here is 
an institution of true artistic and refined education. No 
wonder the pupils show, like true country girls, "grace in 
every motion, music in every step." None will leave this 
edifice of education without a- well-learned, often studied 
lesson of correct rural taste, such as tiie enlightened spirit of 
our day should foster in the minds of those who in a few 
years will take an active station in the afi'airs of real life. 

To consider the question from a }»(»int of view bearing 
directly on the general intellectual and scientific culture of 
the dav, we have to face the grand temples of higher educa- 
tion, the normal schools, the colleges and universities, in 
which the flower of the youth of the country is trained. 
Science and learning in all departments of Knowledge are here 
truly at home. Tlie interior of the stately edifice is syste- 
matically sub-divided and utilized for the promulgation of 
knowledge. It contains the libraries of literature and the 
cabinets and lalioratories of natural science, together with 
the philosophical and mathematical instruments, indispensa])le 
to the various courses of study, But is there any use made 
of the outside room allotted to these buildings ? Do the 
spacious grounds, quite often peculiarly favored by nature, 
bear any evidence of the volume of learning enthroned within 
the walls ? They answer the question themselves to the out- 



RURAL TASTE. 123 

side world ; they openly proclaim that they are considered, in 
the greatest majority of cases, as altogether disconnected with 
the purposes of education; that they are the outside space and 
nothing else ; that their appearance together with the impres- 
sions on the multitude of minds coming in constant contact 
witli them, is deemed unimportant in the systems of education 
pursued in the interior. 

But taking the outside ground as space proper, the question 
might be raised, might not this very space be utilized, be 
turned very profitably to educational jmrposes. A variety pro- 
portioned to the extent of the ground, of indigenous trees and 
shrubs, both ornamental and of economic use, might grow on 
this space of wasted ground, which would be a living book of 
botany and arboriculture, in which not only the students, but 
the community at large, would be greatly interested, and by 
which knowledge would be practically dissemiiuited amongst 
the people. Taking one more step on this basis of improve- 
ment, we have the arboretum and the collection of useful and 
ornamental plants, botanically named and classified, which 
might fitly occupy the ground surrounding the magnificent 
edifices of higher education. This disposition made thereof 
would be a really scientific use, a progressive step in a prac- 
tical horticultural direction, through Avliich a species of 
knowledge would be imparted which is impossible to the 
lecture room of the interior. The outside lecture room is 
fully as important to both the school and to the public as the 
books, picture charts and the herbarium of scientific hay, 
jealously guarded in the inside. The botanical garden and 
the arboretum is an indispensable medium of instruction of 
every university school of forestry and agriculture of Europe, 
alid is developed to some extent in all such institutions of the 
older world, but strangely missing in the programme of 
education in our country, where its beneficial influences are 
far more needed by the peoi)le thaiT in Europe. 

The forest trees of North America, to which the continent 
owes much of its picturesque beauty and wealth of resources, 
deserve far more liberal treatment at the hands of natural 
science, than is generally accorded to them. Many highly 
interesting specimens might be growing in the spacious college 



124 KURAL TASTK. 

grounds of the Western states, as evidences of practical science 
and correct taste. A practical knowledge of the nomencla- 
ture and characteristic distinctions of the forest trees, the 
most widely disseminated and indispensahle materials of t!ie 
industries, Avould by this means l)e founded in the popular 
mind, which should be more alive to the importance of pre- 
serving and perpetuating the noble American forest, liut 
strange to say almost any imaginable curiosity kejit in a jar 
or in a glass case of the cabinet, is far more interesting to the 
scientist and to the multitude than wonders of the vegetal)le 
world visi1)]e all around us. A good portion of the scientific 
literature of the day has withal no real and practical connec- 
tion with the amelioration of liuman life, thus resembling 
a bright comet in endless si)ace, which may be constantly 
watched, but whose course is in reality of no material intei'est 
to the dwellers on this terrestrial ball. 

"Words are like leaves, anel where tliey most abound 
Much fruit of sense l)eueath, is seldom found." 

But viewing the subject in the plain light of ordiiuiry 
imi)rovement as adopted and practiced by all people of 
culture and taste, it will be freely conceded that a Avell 
designed and artistically improved piece of grouiul is a far 
more congruous foreground to the college than a Mild and 
poorly outlined ami carelessly planted patch of land; that it 
would educate the eye and mind in matters of rural taste; 
that it wotild impart practical k^ssons on })rogressive im})rove- 
ment in every home and neighborhood to which the student 
returns during vacation and after the years of college life are 
ended. His return from the halls of science would not only 
be celebrated by the learned and elegant orations A\iiich he 
may deliver to his friends and neighbors, l)ut would nud<e 
him a welcome leader of progressive rural improvements ; a 
true country gentlenuui. 

The landscaj)e is the background of every w'alk and action 
of human life ; its simple elements, grass and trees, surround 
the home and l)eautify the real scenes midst which we live. 
Why should the art which shapes the scenes of nature into 



RURAL TA8TE. 125 

M picture most suited to the Wiuit^ of the refined home- 
stead, and most liarmonious to tlie ai-tistic ideas of our (hiy, 
be unworthy of passing notice of the educators, and useless in 
the study of tlie educated ? Piuecepfa donent ; exempla 

The agricultural colleges of the country, founded l)y the 
endowment fund offered to the states ])y the national govern- 
ment, have wide-spread tracts of fertile land on which to 
experiment and to base the dictates of science in its relation 
to the culture of the soil. The mode of improvement of 
these estates is tlierefore a subject of great interest to the 
agricultural classes which expect to be directly benefited by 
this ]iew de})arturo in popular education. Their true object 
is practically to demonstrate wliat can be taken from the land 
and what can be put thereon to i)erpetuate its fruitfulness; to 
benefit, not merely the present tenant, but those to follow. 
This programme is a very wide and extensive one indeed, and 
is worked out in the different institutions in different direc- 
tions, giving preference to the direct interests of the several 
states and sections of the country. The fundamental differ- 
ence in the object, present production and future improvement 
should, however, never be lost sight of by those wlio comluct 
these experimejital stations of agricultural science. Increase 
of production is not the only object of their mission, but the 
intelligence of the day demands <»f them the uttei-ance of 
wise counsel, not merely in the cropping of the land, but also 
in the establishment of a rational system of rural improve- 
ments of the country. It demands that the cultui'e of a day, 
not yet arrived but coming in the iiear future, should be 
anticipated and due pre})aration l)e made for its sure advent. 
Had this rational view to a future day of i-eckoning lieen 
steadily }n-escrved, the development of tliese public farms of 
this nation would have been a different one from what it is 
to-day, aiul the day of a higher culture would not be so far 
off' as it seems in reality to be. 

A passing glance over two historic movements of the devel- 
'opment of agencies by which the culture of our day has been 
]>roduced, may suffice to indicate the ilirection in which a 
liiffher standard of culture amongst the agricultural masses 



126 KURAL TASTE, 

must be sought aud labored for by unprejudiced leaders of 
popular intelligence. The foundation of our proud fabric of 
instruction was laid by a })lain and simple ordinance issued by 
a few of the heroic pioneers of this nation, as follows : "To 
the end that learning may not perish in the graves of onr fore- 
fathers, he it ordained that a free school shall be inaiafained 
by every fifty families." 

The results of this God-given legacy to posterity are visible 
everywhere in this American land, but not less apparent like- 
wise are the evidences of neglect in compliance therewith. 
The intelligence of each individual, tlie culture of each 
community and state, is a proof of the wisdom of founding 
the free schools of our land : the luck on which the nation's 
welfare will forever rest : the base from which tlie tlunisands 
of institutions of higher education, those nurseries of our 
material and national glory, have arisen. A germ of ine- 
quality and of discord in consequence was hidden nevertheless 
in this fruitful soil of knowledge. 

The institutions of higher education, modeled after their 
respective parent institutions of the older world, were una- 
voidably impregnated with nuiny th^gmas aiul prejudices of 
centuries of the past, and })roduced in consequence a learned 
class of thinkers, claiming by divine right, as it were, a station 
far above the masses of u'orkers. modestly trained in the rudi- 
mentary branches of learning. 

It is at the i)oint where the second epoch of the evolution 
of mental and popular progress makes its appearance. 
Labor, the foitndation of all production, whose all-govern- 
ing ultimatum is wealth, in order to assume and to defend its 
legitimate social position, demands in tones of manly firmness 
its rights in education likewise, hoisting the flag of "educated 
labor" alongside the banner floating proudly over a learned 
and privileged minority of mankind. The foremost countries 
of Europe lead the battle for emancipation of the worker's 
mind,, and America follows nobly, led on by various sturdy 
sons of the productive and fertile west. What else but victory 
could be the result of so just a conflict 't 

The schools of agriculture and of the mechanical arts of 
both continents are the eloquent evidences of the supremacy 



RURAL TASTE. 137 

■of creative and material intelligence over abstract knowledge 
and rigid conservatism, those indispensable supports of hunum 
■development, but stumbling blocks in the pathway of modern 
progression when controlling exclusively the shaping process 
of the mental training of the laboring masses. The claims of 
industrial education have faii'ly revolutionized the entire 
fabric of i)opular instiniction in all material branches. In 
connection with the fundamental pillai's of Tiie world's 
knowledge, accumulated during uuiny centuries and wisely 
preserved from the educational systems of the past, they have 
ushered us into the millenium of art and science in which we 
live, whose forms are necessarily strongest develojied in the 
centers of population and of wealth, the cities of the land. 

So long as art is looked u])on l)y the utilitarian eyes of the 
agricultural masses as an indifferent a})pendix to human exis- 
tence, and science is revered only as a guide to material gain 
in the barn-yard and the field, so hmg Avill the tillers of the 
soil remain but indirectly profited Ijy the higher culture of 
this day; so long will they occu})y a similar position to that 
of the ill-lettered masses in comparison with the learned 
classes, a line of demarkation. to remove which has long been 
the effort of true industrial education. 

The higher grades of agi'icultui-al education, for the pro- 
motion of which the agricultural colleges of our land have 
been created in order to fulfill their real mission, are forced 
not merely to acknowlege the refining influence of art, Init 
practically to foster and honestly to teach its most useful 
branches. Science, the universal gateway to increase in pro- 
duction, and to higher remuneration and })rofit of skill and 
labor, has given us an enlightened system of material agricul- 
ture crowned with the highest grades of domestic aninuils, 
with larger crops than in the past, and with unlimited plenty 
in the nation's wealth. The farmer shares in general with 
the rest of mankind the })olishing infiuences of art ; but 
why should this medium of a higher culture be slighted or 
ignored in his specific education ? Would not his home and 
family circle thereby be directly elevated to a higher plane 
remoter from the clod of the earth and from the association 
with the surrounding animal world, aspiring to a standard of 



128 KUKAL TASTE. 

relinenient enjoyed at i)reseiit only by the so-called educated 
classes ? Eural art, })ractically materialized on the wide- 
sjjread tracts of laud devoted to the higher training of tlie 
rural masses, will simultaneously achieve two important ob- 
jects. It will offer the charms of scenic beauty to the homes 
of the agricultural masses by the magic force of its identity 
with smiling nature, and it will practically demonstrate to 
sister institutions of the highest grades of education, quite 
often looking down in derision on the colleges of the farmer, 
that even the centers of intellectual culture can learn a 
wholesome lesson, not only from scenic nature, l)ut from the 
enlightened agriculture of this land. The consummation of 
these desirable and cultivating influences will liasten the 
advent of the future day, to wliich alhision has ])eeu made 
above. 



THE BURYL\(i (JHOUM). 



'• I aui a stranger and a sojourner with you : give uiea possession 
of a burying place with you. that I may bury my dead out of my 
sight." 

"The grapiiic language in whicli tlie twenty-third chapter 
of Genesis narrates Abraham's purchase of a sepulcher from 
the sons of Heth, surpasses in simple pathos the most studied 
writings of nujdern days.'"' It is not (mly a proof that a res])ect 
for the dead was coeval with man's first social institutions, 
but also one of deep solicitude of tlie feeling heart for the 
sacred ness and the security of the resting place of the dead. 
Under this impulse the patriarch deuuinds the possession of 
the land, paying therefor ■•four hundred shekels of silver, 
(•urrent money with the merchant." Following the history 
of the patriarchs to the close of Genesis, we see it verified 
that there is society even in the grave, tluit there is a desire in 
the human heart that the body shall, in the grave, be dearest 
to those who were nearest to him in life. On his dvinff bed 



liURAL TASTE, 139 

the patriarcli Jacob says to his children, " Bury me not in 
Egypt, but with my fathers in the cave of Macpehili, that is 
in the field of Ephron. There tliey buried Abraham and 
Sarah his wife: there they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife; 
and there I Imried Leah." And Joseph, when dying, ''took 
an oatii of the children of Isnel, saying, God will surely visit 
you, and ye shall carry u}) my bones from hence." 

This impulse of the human heart has been tlie same in ;dl 
ages and amongst all nations. It is a gift of nature n(»t one 
of education. IMie tond), the ti'uthful clironicler of the his- 
tory of our race, proclaims not merely the standard of culture 
possessed by the nations of the past, but more so the deep 
respect paid to the departed, expressed l)y the evidences of 
art employed in the atti'mi)t to immortalize tlieir virtues and 

Note. The West points jvistly to Cinciuuati. its tjueenly city, as 
the centre around whicli tlie earhest reminiscences of its marvelous 
development, material as well as intellectual, cluster ; the stronghold 
of art and a?sthetic culture even of to-day. The numerous exquisite 
ornamental grounds gracing the picturesque suburbs of that city 
were inspired by the loveliness and grandeur of the scenery of the 
romantic Ohio, and owe their existence to the refined taste of her 
wealthy citizens. No sooner had the Atlantic cities taken active 
steps in the creation of rural cemeteries than Cincinnati sprung 
boldly to the front rank of progressive improvement in that direc- 
tion, assuming the leadership, not only in thought, but in executive 
art likewise. The social and artistic idea on which the modern bury- 
ing ground is founded was expressed in eloquent words by one of 
Cincinnati's most honored citizens, the late Hon. Jno. McLean, on 
the occasion of consecrating the site of Spring Grove Cemetery to 
purposes of Christian burial. The application of the true principle 
of the art of landscape gardening, to grounds devoted to interment, 
was forcibly expressed and practically demonstrated by the late 
Adolphus Strauch, the talented artist to whose hands the design and 
improvement of Spring Grove had for many years l)een entrusted. 
The Reports of that cemetery express the enlightened ideas of those 
pioneers, and of many other eminent writers quoted by them. The 
subject of the following pages has been prepared by the writer under 
guidance of their writings in his possession, using in many instances 
the words chosen by them themselves. In doing so he has been 
guided by a desire to disseminate enlightened views of progressive, 
popular culture and refined taste in many circles of society in which 
the above mentioned printed Reports have thus far been unknown. 



130 RUKAL TASTE. 

valors by the aid of the most imperishable materials of nature. 
The culture of the living is expressed by the mode of treat- 
ment of the last resting places of the dead. This axiom of 
civilization is firmly established by the history of mankind 
and verified in every instance, even in our day. 

The burial ground expresses in truth the inward sentiments 
of the living. ''It is a territory which in reality does not 
belong to this present sphere ; it is neutral ground lying on 
the confines of eternity — it is inhabited by the dead — whose 
spirits live in that changeless state of existence which lies but 
a step from this solemn ground. It is also the field of tears 
and of many sorrows of the living." 

Is this ground worthy of our attention, deserving of our 
efforts of decoration ? How utterly repulsive is the sight of 
the innumerable neglected, wild and unprotected Ijurying 
grounds met everywhere in this Christian land of ours I How 
cold and stoical must be the heart of that man who supposes 
that the body, being an insensible mass of matter, may be 
covered from his sight with little care or ceremony, and 
thought of no more I Who can see the gra\ e of a beloved 
friend utterly neglected and overgrown by briars ? The feel- 
ing heart regards the spot where the remains of the dearest 
ones were laid to rest, as sacred above all other places. The ' 
silent grave of the pioneer of civilization in the deep shade 
of the native forest was often decorated by some loving, 
trembling liand with the modest flower of the woods ; the 
same impulse of human nature strews the tomb of the prince 
of fortune with all the tokens of affection that art and wealth 
can offer, America has produced the loveliest cemeteries the 
sun has ever shown upon ; but it has likewise a graveyard 
scenery in certain sections which disgraces the spirit of the 
'nineteenth century. 

The acute taste and sound judgment of the enlightened 
citizen of this country have learned an important lesson from 
tlie passage of Holy "Writ quoted above. The patriarch 
secured undisputed possession of the field of Ephron, and he 
purchased the field Avith all the trees thereon and in the bor-. 
ders round about. This indicates the fundamental principle ' 
of absolute security of possession, and of scenic rural beauty 



RURAL TASTE. 131 

of the tnicts of land selected for the rural cemeteries which 
grace the environs of the leading American cities. It founds 
two indispensable conditions of the modern cemetery — secur- 
ity and rural beauty. 

In the early days of the history of our land the houses of 
public Avorship had in their neighborhood, quite often in the 
same enclosure, the burying grounds of their respective flocks, 
and the municipal government furnished likewise burying 
facilities to the population at large. It was plainly seen that 
this system offered no security to the survivors of the departed; 
that the ground, when becoming valuable for other purposes, 
miglit at any day be j^ronounced a nuisance, witii orders of 
removal of the remains. Church trustees were readily induced 
by offer of gold to accept the tangible gain and to do the 
same that tlie city authorities would gladly do, sell the last 
resting place of the former generation for building sites of 
the present. A jjlan had to be devised by which the tempta- 
tion would be removed from the church and worldly rule, by 
which one generation would not savagely disturb the rest of 
death of a former, l)y whicli the sacred ground would be 
securely dedicated to tlie dead and mA to the livinfj. Civiliza- 
tion demands a trust that shall endure %intU time shall tte no 
longer. This is the foundation on which the modern Ameri- 
can cemetery rests, and which is wanting altogether to tlie 
burying grounds owned l)y the church of whatsoever ci'eed, or 
by the municipal authority. 

The plan adopted in the largest and most popular cemeteries 
of the country is one of association, of which each lot owner 
is a member entitled to a vote in tlie administration of the 
trust. The famous rural cemeteries of Boston, New York, 
Cincinnati, and of many other cities, are founded on this 
truly republican form of government. The leading cemeteries 
of Philadelphia and Chicago are owned by one or more indi- 
viduals who sell the jiarcels of ground to the })ul)]ic in fee 
simple ; the perpetual trust of individual possession is in 
consequence the same as in the other plan. The leading cem- 
eteries of these cities have, by wise management, already 
accumulated a surplus fund which cannot fail to increase 
steadily, by which an interest fund will be created, which will 



132 RURAL TASTE. 

be more than sufficient to keep the groiiiul perpetually in 
perfect order, after all burying lots liave been sold. 

Cannot this wise financial plan also be adopted in the rural 
districts, where people may desire to found a safe and culti- 
vated resting })lace for the generations as they come and pass 
away? How strangely short-sighted it is to persist in a system 
and practice of burial which the primitive ideas of former 
generations adopted, in accordance with the peculiarities and 
privations of a new and sparsely settled county. Progressive 
intelligence demands that the customs and conceptions of the 
past be remodeled and made harmonious with the spirit of the 
present day. not only in thi' modfs of life, hut also in' the 
modes of l)ui-ial. 

But what of the mode of decoration of the luirial gi'ouiuls 
which the inspired wi'iter foreshadows clearly, by distiiu'tly 
recording all " the trees thereon and in the borders round 
about?" I'his simple passage of the Bible iuis a deeper mean- 
ing than nniny of its readers miiy [)ei'ha[)s have observed 
before. The trees thereon and round about mean simply the 
sylvan decoration of the burying ground, which is by tiieir 
aid made attractive and })k'asant to the mind, aiul will thereby 
be frequently visited by the living, oftener at least than if it 
were bare and rei)ulsivc to the outward senses. Its moral in- 
fluences on the living will, in consc(|uence, be felt in a wider 
circumference, numerically speaking, and will be heightened 
by its association with simple, beautiful nature, through which 
the thoughts of the Creator — infinite clearness and beauty — 
are refiected into the docile soul. The grave with all its 
solemn thoughts and refiections. ottered to tiie skeptic, the 
philosopher and christian, is the most powerful educator of the 
human family. Init has likewise given rise to the superstitions 
which have in all ages prevailed amongst men. Advancing 
culture and intelligence has had a desperate, long continued 
struggle with the mysterious horrors of the tomb, and has 
succeeded in the course of tinie in freeing the grave from the 
symbols of fright which vanity had for centuries associated 
therewith. 

The most ancient nations of which recorded history gives a 
reliable account, selected suitable places for general interment, 



KUKAL TASTE. lo3 

remote from the habitations of the livino-. The burial ground 
of the ancient Egyptians was situated beyond the hike of 
Aclierusia. whicli signifies the last condition of num. "This 
cemetery was a large plain, surrounded by trees, and intersected 
by canals, to whicli was given tlie appellation Elisioens, mean- 
ing rest." Those only whose lives had been exemplary, were 
admitted to sepulture in that place : whilst those who had dis- 
graced the true object of their lives were thrown into the 
loathsome pit called Tartarus, signifying the use to which it 
was destined. This gave rise to the Greek fables of the Lake 
Acheron, Charon, his boat, his ferry money and the Elysian 
fields. It was a belief of the Egyptians that after a period of 
three thousand years the bodies of the de])arted would again 
be animated ; hence tiie endeavor to preserve, till the arrival 
of that period, the mortal coil of friends and relatives. The 
ancient rock tombs of Egy2)t contain to this day the remains 
of nuiny who lived in the days of Moses. 

The ancient Germans buried their dead in groves conse- 
crated by their priests. The majestic grandeur of these 
sylvan temples may have given the first inspiration of the 
Gothic style of architectui-e. The Romans, in the earliest 
times, buried their dead in public places. h\ the flourisliing 
days of tlie Ixepuldic they burned the dead l)odies and laid the 
ashes in an urn. After the introduction of Christianity, 
chapels, shrines and altars were erected over the dead, by 
which the universal custom of the Christian churchyard was 
suggested and inaugurated. The first encroachment on the 
sacredness of the temi)le of worship was made in favor of the 
Emperor Constantine the Great, who was buried in the outer 
porch of the church of the Ajiostles in Constantinople. This 
first example has been the precedent to a continued struggle 
by which the claims of wealth and rank and power secured a 
sanctified sepulture beneath the domes of the Christian re- 
ligion, and by this sad practice the churches of Europe have 
become true charnel houses of the dead. The sacred grottoes 
filled with dead saints found beneath the historical temples of 
worship of the leading countries of Europe, s])eak elofpiently 
of the power and evil consequences of one example of human 
vanity and superstition. 



134 RURAL TASTE. 

This entire fabric was, however, shaken to its lowest foun- 
dations by the French Eevolution of 1789. A decree of the 
national assembly in 1790 prohibited the dangerous custom of 
burial in churches, and ordered the formation of cemeteries 
at a distance from the dwellings of the living. Paris, the 
great capital of the world, produced in this wise the first cem- 
etery of modern times, founded on the rational basis of equality 
in death. The Cimitiere du Fere de la Chaise, lying on the 
eastern limits of that city, was consecrated in 1804 as a burial 
place. Individuals, the most dissimilar in faith, in feeling 
and in practice, rest here in the peace of the sepulchre. We 
owe to this cemetery not only the inspiration of our American 
modern rural cities of the dead, but also much of the ridicu- 
lous superstitions and puerile features of a majority of the 
burying grounds of both continents. It is a perpetual sermon 
on the genius, the virtues and vices of all nations, more pow- 
erful than human oratory could possibly preacli to mankind. 

The cemeteries of Mount Auburn of Boston, Grreenwood of 
New York, and Laurel Hill of Phihidelphia, were founded in 
the decade beginning with 1830 ; the famous cemetery of 
Spring Grove of Cincinnati, and others in the vicinity of 
noted cities sliortly afterward. The noble examples of the 
eastern cities were readily accepted by the people. So univer- 
sally is this demand of civilization conceded in all the cities 
of the country, that beautiful rural cities of the dead are 
found to-day in the vicinity of all towns and cities where 
people of festhetic taste and culture live. 

The selection of the tracts destined for purposes of inter- 
ment of the population is made with due regard to the neces- 
sary distance, not only from the dwellings of the living, but 
also from the annoyance which the smoke and turbulence and 
the noise of the cities of commerce and industry occasion to 
the visitors to the city of the silent. A picturesque situation, 
with an agreeably diversified sui-face, combining the most 
striking features of landscape beauty, and a porous subsoil, 
most suitable to burying purposes, has in all cases been 
selected, making the rural cemeteries of America truly the 
loveliest spots of the country; the most befitting foreground to 
the beautiful shore "beyond the river." 



RURAL TASTE. 135 

The first stadium of art employed in tlie design and decor- 
ation of the modern rural cemetery, was a crude and })i-imitive 
idea when compared with the advances which correct taste has 
made in the space of fifty years, whicli have passed since the 
inauguration of tlie first enterprises of the eastern cities. 
The fundamental, all-prevailing idea of tlie former church- 
yard was the protection of the grave; security from the defiling 
touch of human feet and rude hands. Each grave was in 
consequence surrounded by an enclosure which was mistaken 
for real decoration. Costly enclosures of wood, iron or stone, 
or consisting of impenetrable live hedges, were inti'oduced 
likewise in the modern cemetery, and were maintained bv tlie 
public in many instances with great obstinacy, urged to this 
course principally by the trades which furnished the cut stones 
and the iron chains and railings. The process of freeing the 
popular mind from this sjiecies of superstition and ad- 
herence to the ideas of the past, was truly a- tedious and 
a laborious one. 

Tlie first true examjile of a real pai'k cemetery, unmarred 
by enclosures around the individual family lots, was furnished 
in the im2:)rovement of the newer })ortion of Spring Grove 
Cemetery of Cincinnati, under the guidance of its talented 
landscape engineer, the late Adolphus Straucli, whose name 
will be handed down to future time as the most honored in the 
history the of rural cemeteries of America. The beauty and 
economy of the natural plan was in this example so fully 
demonstrated that it could not fail to find universal recogni- 
tion and imitation in the cemeteries of other cities. Those of 
later date, various of which promise to become in the course 
of years, the finest and and most attractive park cemeteries of 
the country, were based from their first inauguration on the 
natural or landscape plan, and have in consecpience not to 
contend with the many obstacles of the older ones, in which 
the obstinacy of lot owners must be conquered by wear and 
tear of time and argument. 

The modern cemetery is identical in design and sylvan scenery 
with the park, and is thereby distinctly contrasted with the 
stereotyped plan of the usual graveyard, resembling generally 
a yard of monuments and marble slabs for sale. The area of 



13G RUKAL TASTE. 

the lawn is subdivided into parcels of various extent to suit 
the public. Each family burying lot has its central family 
monument, around which the members are laid to rest, as 
Providence decrees their arrival in the city of the dead. 
All useless stone work, such as marble slabs, co]3ings around 
the graves and insignificant attempts at small monuments are 
carefully avoided. The corners of each lot are indicated by 
numbered stones oidy a fe\y inches above the sod. The whole 
area is thus an uninterrupted verdant lawn, on which the 
graves are imbedded in the simplest and most natural mode. 

The fundamental idea of the park cemetery is a rational 
return to the simplicity of nature, which is infinite beauty 
and speaks more eloquently to the soul than any possible 
device or cunning of art can do. It is likewise the most 
economic mode of improvement, and can most easily and 
cheaply be kept in })erfect trim and order. Let anyone 
imagine the doleful sight of the decaying, uiipainted. tumb- 
ling enclosures of .the ordinary graveyard, or recollect the 
wild, over-grown hedges suri'ounding lots, lilled up witii 
bushes and weeds, that he may judge correctly of the most 
rationally suitable mode of design and decoration of the 
places of interment, which we may shun and disregard in 
busy life, but to which all iiiiist bo borne in their own 
ai)p<)inted time. The tomlj, in former ages the symbol of 
fright and terror, is placed by art and culture in the most 
sweetly smiling spots' of mother earth, and s^ieaks in its 
embrace of simple nature in soothing lisi^ings of love and 
hope to the soul, rouinding it of its origin and final destiny — 
the presence of the Creator. Tiie modern rural cemetery, as 
designed, improved and maintained by the modest art of 
landscape gardening, is a true fulfilment of the passage of 
Holy Writ, which says : "Tlie Lord God planted a garden, 
and there he put the man whom he had formed." It is the 
most eloquent exponent of true American culture, the most 
shining landmark of the enlightened taste of the century. 

Tlie improvement of the grounds of interment of a com- 
nnmity claiming culture and refinement is by no means a 
mere question of individual taste displayed in planting either 
trees or flowers; it is a stern question of civilization, in 



KURAL TASTE. 137 

which the rural popiihitioii is interested as much as tliut of 
the cities of the land. To advance the usual excuse of differ- 
ence in wealth existing between both sections Avould surely 
be entirely idle. A spot of ground restored by human 
hands to primitive simple purity by being decked witli a 
garment of verdure, shaded by a few befitting trees, and 
protected from the interfei'ence of the outside world by a 
suitable enclosure, is the sim})lest type of a christian burying 
ground, harmonious to the dictates of the taste and retiiu'- 
nient of our day. It is the fundamental l)asis lil\ewise on 
which the beauty of tlie most elaV)orate modern cemetery of 
tlie wealthiest city rests. This simi)le mode of decoraticm is 
within the easy reach of every community of the country: it 
can be applied on any scale, and under any combination of 
controlling circumstances. It is the type of beauty in scenic 
nature visible everywhere and enjoyed by every one. A gen- 
eral adoption of this simple mode of decoration of the fields 
devoted to the [)eaceful rest of the departed would transform 
the sadly neglected and ghastly graveyards of the land into 
scenes of simple beauty, attractive and instructive to all minds. 
The graves of those who were dearest in life to many, would 
be oftener visited by the living, and the gentle voices coming 
from them, reaching the heart with greater powei- and effect 
than human s])eecli can inq^art, would l)e hcai'd more fre- 
quently. 

The graves of the loved ones lost are tlie most ehxiuent 
teachers of the living. Are they worth decorating, worthy 
the attention of an enlightened, retined. christian i)eople r 

•• Why should the memories of the dead 

Be ever those of gloom and sadness V — 
Why should their dwellings not be made 

"Mid scenes of light, and life, and gladness ;■ 
Here let the young and gay repair, 

And in this scene of light and beauty. 
Gather from Earth, and Sky, and Air. 

Lessons of Life, and Love, and Duty 1" 

—Cist. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Preface. 



PAGE. 

3 



PART FIRST— MATTERS OF TASTE. 



Introductory, 
Principles of Art, 
Principles of Taste, 

Natural Taste, 

Individual Taste, . 

Public Taste, 

Fashion, 
Floral Taste, 
Rural Taste, 
Taste in Horticulture. 
Attraction, 
Reflections, 



13 
15 
16 
16 
17 
18 
19 
21 
2S 
31 
33 



PART SECOND — MATTERS OF ART. 



The Art of Design 

Ornamental Gardening as an Art of Design. 

Historical, 

Study of Nature, 

First Principles of Association, 

Clearness of the Scope of Vision, 

Light and Shade, .... 

Elevation, 

The Mountainous Type — The Picturesque. 

The Conformation of the Ground, 

The Outlines, 

Shade, 



37 
38 
40 
43 
45 
45 
46 
46 
47 
49 
49 
50 



140 



TABLE OF C'OXTEXTS. 



Shade— pagk. 

I. Association of Trees with Each Other. ... 50 

The Clump, 51 

The Grove 53 

The Thicket, 53 

The Forest 53 

II. Trees in regard to their Association with Scenery at Large, 53 
III. The Forests in regard to their Association with the dif- 
ferent Elevations of the Ground. . . . 53 
IV. Wliat are the effects produced by the Association of Trees ';:' 54 

Light 55 

Water 56 

Rocks .57 

The Graceful, 57 

The Scenery of tlie Plain 58 

Return. 00 

Study ix Art 63 

Difference in Art — Painting vs. (iARDENiNo. ... 65 

Study in Landscape Gardening 66 

The Conformation of the Ground, 67 

Outlines 68 

Trees, the Principle of Shade, ...... 73 

Trees, as Distributed over the Ground. .... 74 

Trees, in Relation to the Elevation of the Ground. 76 

Effects Produced by Trees and Shrubs as Combined amongst 

Tliemselves. ........ 76 

Tlie Lawn. The Principle of I>ight SO 

Water 81 

Rocks -.83 

The Ornamental Grounds of our Country, .... 83. 



PART THIRD — MATTERS OF FACT. 



Correct Judgment 89 

Relative Proportion 89 

Standard of Measure ^0 

Measure of Distance and Extent. 91 



TABLE OF (OXTENTS. 



Ul 



Correct Judgment — 

Restrictions by Correct Judgment, 

True Standard of Measure. 

Necessities, ..... 
The Home Grounds, .... 

Simplicity of Design, 

Economy, 

Congruity of Parts, 

Relative Proportion of Parts, 

Balance of Light and Sliade. 

Roadwaj's, . . • . , 

The Shape of the Ground, 

The Ground Plan and the Perspective View 

The Principle of Improvement, , 

Application on the Prairie, . 
Public Improvements, 

The Public Streets. 

Public Squares, 

The Court House Square, 

The Grounds of State Institutions 

Parks, 

Organization and Co-operation, 
The Grounds ob^ Institutions of Education 

The School-house Yard, 

Tlie Grounds of Female Colleges. 

The Grounds of Colleges and Universities 

The Grounds of Agricultural Colleges, 
The Burying Ground, 

Security and Beauty, 

Plan of Incorporation.! . 

The Cemeteries of History, . 

The jModern Rural Cemetery. 

Its Decoration, 

Its Jloral Influence. 



I'AliU. 

'.);} 

94 
94 
95 
9(i 
97 
9S 
98 
100 
101 
102 
104 
109 
109 
113 
ll.") 
115 
110 
117 
118 
118 
121 
122 
125 
128 
1:^,0 
181 
18:} 
184 
18H 
187 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



000 999 113 ft 



